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Servants of the King 

Robert E. Speer 

BV 3700 .S63 1910 

Speer, Robert E. 1867-1947. 

Servants of the King 


I* JAN 27 1911 



Servants of the King 








Copyright, 1909, by 





Preface vii 

I David Livingstone 1 

II Henry Benjamin Whipple 19 

III William Taylor 35 

IV Alice Jackson 55 

V Guido Fridolin Verbeck 7Z 

VI Eleanor Chesnut 89 

VII Matthew Tyson Yates 115 

VIII Isabella Thoburn 137 

IX Jarnes Robertson 153 

X John Coleridge Patteson 1 73 

XI Ion Keith-Falconer 189 

Index 205 



David Livingstone 3 

Inscription on the Tree in Ilala, Africa, Under 

Which the Heart of Livingstone Was Buried 15 

Henry Benjamin Whipple 21 

The Rev. J. J. Enmegahbowh, a Full-blood Chippewa, 

Ordained by Bishop Henry B. Whipple 25 

William Taylor 37 

Missionary Journeys of William Taylor 50 

Alice Jackson 57 

Smith College Basket-ball Team 61 

Guido Fridolin Verbeck 75 

Decoration of the Order of the Rising Sun 85 

Eleanor Chesnut 91 

Ruins of the Lien-chou Hospital, China 107 

Matthew Tyson Yates 117 

Yates Memorial Hall, Shanghai, China 133 

Isabella Thoburn 139 

Isabella Thoburn College, Lucknow, India 145 

James Robertson 155 

James Robertson's Grave in the Kildonan Churchyard, 

Manitoba 165 

John Coleridge Patteson 175 

Facsimile of a Letter Written by Bishop Patteson 

from Melanesia 183 

Ion Keith-Falconer 191 

Keith-Falconer's Home in Scotland 201 

Ruins of His Home in Arabia 201 



The Bible itself is, in the main, simply a book 
of biographies. The most wonderful part of it is 
the biography of Jesus. The next most wonderful is 
the life and letters of Saint Paul. And almost all 
of the Old Testament is either the record of men's 
lives or God's revelation through men who, in pro- 
claiming the message which had been given to them 
of God, also unawares laid bare their own inmost 
souls. Through the lives of men and of his own 
Son, God has revealed his truth, and in the record 
of their lives reveals it still. 

And we learn best what this revelation of God 
means and can effect, by studying it, first in itself, 
and then in true men who have studied it and who 
are living by it. Of all such, none have lived more 
richly or originally than the missionaries who have 
gone out to live now such lives as Paul lived, and 
to work such work as Paul wrought nearly nineteen 
centuries ago. 

The sketches in this volume are studies of such 
men and women. Some worked at home, and some 
abroad. Some are known to all, and some to smaller 
circles, but in each one the great principles of the 
Savior's own life were in a true though lesser meas- 


via Preface 

ure incarnate, and our purpose in studying them 
should be to find those principles and open a larger 
place for them in our own lives. As they served 
Christ, so also ought we to serve him. And surely 
we will serve him better as we see what a fine, great 
thing their service was. 

If those who study these sketches wish to consult 
fuller biographies, they may turn to the following, 
from which the material for the sketches has been 
drawn : Blaikie, The Personal Life of David 
Livingstone; Whipple, Lights and Shadozvs of a 
Long Episcopate; Taylor, The Story of My Life; 
Speer, A Memorial of Alice Jackson; Griffis, Verheck 
of Japan; Taylor, The Story of Yates, the Mission- 
ary; Gordon, The Life of James Robertson; Tho- 
burn. Life of Isabella Thoburn; Yonge, Life of John 
Coleridge Patteson; Sinker, Memorials of the Hojp- 
arable Ion Keith-Falconer, 

Robert E. Speer. 

New York City, 

April 15, 1909. 


I will place no value on anything I have or may possess, 
except in relation to the kingdom of Christ. 

— David Livingstone 

(^ (>A^^i^ .J^AXyta/y^cj^^ 



IN Westminster Abbey the visitor, wandering 
about studying the monuments and inscriptions, 
comes in the middle of the nave upon a large black 
slab set in the floor bearing these words : 






Born March 19, 18 13, 
At Blantyre, Lanarkshire. 
Died May 4, 1873, 
At Chitambo's Village, Ilala. 

On the right border of the stone is a Latin sen- 
tence, and along the left border : 


This is the resting-place of the body, but not of 
the heart, of the Scotch weaver lad who went out 


4 Servants of the King 

from his simple home an unknown lad and died as 
one of the greatest and most honored of men. 

From his earliest childhood he was of a calm, self- 
reliant nature. We are told by his best biographer 
that "it was his father's habit to lock the door at 
dusk, by which time all the children were expected 
to be in the house. One evening David had infringed 
this rule, and when he reached the door it was 
barred. He made no cry nor disturbance, but, hav- 
ing procured a piece of bread, sat down contentedly 
to pass the night on the doorstep. There, on looking 
out, his mother found him. ... At the age of nine 
he got a New Testament from his Sunday-school 
teacher for repeating the 119th Psalm on two suc- 
cessive evenings with only five errors, a proof that 
perseverance was bred in the bone." 

At the age of ten he went to work in the cotton 
factory as a piecer, and after some years was pro- 
moted to be a spinner. The first half-crown he 
earned he gave to his mother. With part of his 
first week's wages he bought a Latin text-book and 
studied that language with ardor in an evening class 
between eight and ten. He had to be in the factory 
at six in the morning and his work ended at eight 
at night. But by working at Latin until midnight 
he mastered Virgil and Horace by the time he was 
sixteen. He used to read in the factory by putting 
the book on the spinning-jenny so that he could catch 

David Livingstone 5 

a sentence at a time as he passed at his work. He 
was fond of botany and geology and zoology, and 
when he could get out would scour the country for 
specimens. On one expedition he and his brother 
caught a big salmon, and, to conceal the fish, which 
they had no right to take, they put it in his brother's 
trousers leg and so got it home. 

When he was about twelve he began to have se- 
rious thoughts about deeper things, but not till he 
was twenty did the great change come which 
brought into his life the strength of the consciousness 
of his duty to God. Feeling "that the salvation of 
men ought to be the chief desire and aim of every 
Christian," he made a resolution "that he would give 
to the cause of missions all that he might earn be- 
yond what was required for his subsistence." But 
at twenty-one he read an appeal by Mr. Gutzlaff on 
behalf of China, and from that time he sought him- 
self to enter the foreign mission field, influenced by 
"the claim of so many millions of his fellow crea- 
tures and the want of qualified missionaries." So 
he went out from his home to follow the advice of 
old David Hogg, one of the patriarchs of the village : 
"Now, lad, make religion the every-day business of 
your life, and not a thing of fits and starts; for if 
you do, temptation and other things will get the 
better of you." 



6 Servants of the King 

China was the land to which Livingstone wished 
to go, but the opium war prevented his doing so 
at once. About the same time he came into con- 
tact with Dr. Robert Moffat, who was then in 
England creating much interest in his South African 
mission. He told Livingstone of "a vast plain to 
the north where he had sometimes seen, in the morn- 
ing sun, the smoke of a thousand villages, where no 
missionary had ever been," and it was not long 
before the young Scotch student decided for Africa. 
Livingstone was thorough in his preparation, as he 
was in all things. He determined to get a medical as 
^ well as a theological education. To do it he had to 
borrow books, to earn his own way, and to live with 
the closest economy, paying about fifty cents a week 
for the rent of his room. The first time he tried to 
preach he entirely forgot his sermon, and saying, 
"Friends, I have forgotten all I had to say," he hur- 
ried out of the pulpit and left the chapel. One of his 
acquaintances of those days wrote, years after, that 
even then his two strongest characteristics were sim- 
plicity and resolution. "Now after forty years," he 
adds, 'T remember his step, the characteristic for- 
ward tread, firm, simple, resolute, neither fast nor 
slow, no hurry and no dawdle, but which evidently 
meant — ^getting there." ^ 

On December 8, 1840, lie sailed for Africa, going 
out by way of Brazil and the Cape of Good Hope. 


David Livingstone 7 

The captain of the ship taught him the use of the 
quadrant and how to take observations. He was to 
find good use for this knowledge. Arriving at the 
Cape, he went on to his first station, Kuruman, but 
he had no thought of staying there or of working 
in any fixed groove. He was thinking of new plans, 
and, above all, his eyes were turned northward to- 
ward the great region absolutely untouched and un- 
known. The first period of his work might be 
roughly marked as from 1840 to 1852. From Kuru- 
man he made several trips deeper into the country, 
and had some of those experiences with lions of 
which he was to have so many. 

On one trip he broke a finger, and when it was 
healing broke it again by the recoil of a revolver 
which he shot at a lion which made him a sudden 
visit in the middle of the night. Some of his trips 
were in ox-wagons and some on ox-back. *Tt is 
rough traveling, as you can conceive," he wrote. 
"The skin is so loose there is no getting one's great- 
coat, which has to serve both as saddle and blanket, 
to stick on; and then the long horns in front, with 
which he can give one a punch in the abdomen if he 
likes, make us sit as bolt upright as dragoons. In 
this manner I traveled more than four hundred 
miles." His investigations were undertaken on his 
own responsibility. He wrote home to ask the direc- 
tors of the London Missionary Society to approve. 

8 Servants of the King 

but if they did not, he said, he was at their disposal 
"to go anywhere, provided it he forward." 

He soon left Kuruman to locate at Mabotsa, and 
it was there that a lion nearly killed him, tearing his 
flesh and crushing the bone in his shoulder, A na- 
tive diverted the attention of the lion when his paw 
was on Livingstone's head. When asked once what 
he thought when the lion was over him, Livingstone 
answered : "I was thinking what part of me he 
would eat first." When years later his body was 
brought home to England it was by the false joint 
in the crushed arm that it was identified. To avoid 
friction at Mabotsa, Livingstone, who had just built 
a house and laid out a garden, but who would quar- 
rel with no one, gave up the station and went on with 
the daughter of Robert and Mary Moffat, the great 
missionaries of South Africa, whom he had just 
married, and established a new station at Chonuane. 
But there was no water there, so he moved again to 
Kolobeng, on the river of that name, and the whole 
tribe among whom he lived moved with him. 

Kolobeng was unhealthful, and far beyond it 
stretched the vast unknown interior. Something in 
Livingstone's heart told him to go on. So on he 
went. On August i, 1849, he discovered Lake 
'Ngami, a body of water so big that he could not see 
the opposite shore. And, later, he found the River 
Zambezi. The lake was 870 miles from Kuruman 

David Livingstone 9 

across a desert. He must find a passage to the sea on 
either the west or the east coast. "Providence seems 
to call me to the regions beyond," he wrote, and he 
heard ever more loudly the call of God to strike at 
the awful slave traffic. But what should he do with 
his wife and children ? The only course was to send 
them home to Scotland. So, hard as it was, he took 
them to Cape Town in March, 1852, the whole party 
appearing out of the interior in clothes of curious 
and outworn fashions, having been eleven years 
away from civilization, and in April he parted from 
his family and turned back into the darkness. 

Before he reached Kolobeng the Boers had at- 
tacked and destroyed that station. With all ties to 
any one place now broken, he started north, and in 
June, 1853, reached Linyanti, fifteen hundred miles 
north from the Cape. It was a hard and dangerous 
journey, part of it made with fever, through swamps 
and thickets and water three or four feet deep. 
"With our hands all raw and bloody and knees 
through our trousers, we at length emerged. But," 
as he wrote in his journals on the way, "if God has 
accepted my service, then my life is charmed till my 
work is done. ... I will place no value on anything 
I have or may possess, except in relation to the king- ; 
dom of Christ. If anything will advance the inter- ' 
ests of that kingdom, it shall be given away or kept 
only as by giving or keeping of it I shall most pro- 

lO Servants of the King 

mote the glory of him to whom I owe all my hopes 
in time and eternity. May grace and strength suffi- 
cient to enable me to adhere faithfully to this reso- 
lution be imparted to me, so that in truth, not in 
name only, all my interests and those of my children 
may be identified with his cause. ... I will try 
and remember always to approach God in secret with 
as much reverence in speech, posture, and behavior 
as in public. Help me, thou who knowest my frame 
and pitiest as a father his children." Evidences of 
the curse of the slave-trade multiplied constantly, 
and he saw more clearly at Linyanti that both for 
the suppression of that traffic and for the expansion 
of the missionary work it was necessary to open up 
the continent. 

Accordingly, on November ii, 1853, he started 
westward for the Atlantic Ocean, and on May 31, 
1854, came out at Loanda, about two hundred miles 
south of the mouth of the Congo. He had thirty- 
one attacks of fever on the way. He must find and 
make his own road. The floods and rains kept him 
almost constantly wet. Savages opposed him.. He 
had no white companions. He arrived ragged and 
worn and exhausted, to find no letters from home 
waiting for him. An ordinary man would have felt 
that he had done enough and would have started for 
home, but not Livingstone. He plunged back into 
Africa and went eastward across the continent. He 

David Livingstone 1 1 

left Loanda September 24, 1854, and reached Quili- 
mane, on the opposite side of Africa, on May 20, 
1856. On the way he became nearly deaf from fever 
and nearly Wind from being struck in the eye by a 
branch of a tree in the forest. On this trip he dis- 
covered the great Victoria Falls, higher and fuller 
than Niagara, and he had yet more exciting times 
with savage tribes, whom, as always, he found a way 
to placate. From Ouilimane he sailed for England, 
arriving August, 1856. At Cairo he learned of the 
death of his old father, who had longed to see him 
once again. 

He got a tremendous welcome home. The ScotcH 
weaver lad who had been all alone in Africa found 
himself the great hero of the day in Scotland and 
England. He was received by the men of science, 
by the Queen and the royal family, by all friends of 
humanity. He was given the freedom of the cities 
of London, Edinburgh, and Glasgow, and honors of 
the Universities of Glasgow, and Oxford, and Cam- 
bridge. Unspoiled by all the flattery, he left Eng- 
land to return to Africa on March 10, 1858, going 
out now to Ouilimane as British consul for the east 
coast and interior of Africa. As he sailed, he wrote 
back to his son, Tom : 

"London, 2nd February, 1858. — My Dear Tom: 
I am soon going off from this country, and will leave 
you to the care of him who neither slumbers nor 

12 Servants of the King 

sleeps, and never disappointed any one who put his 
trust in him. If you make him your friend, he will 
be better to you than any companion can be. He 
is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. May 
he grant you grace to seek him and to serve him. 
I have nothing better to say to you than to take God 
for your Father, Jesus for your Savior, and the 
Holy Spirit for your sanctifier. Do this and you are 
safe forever. No evil can then befall you. Hope 
you will learn quickly and well, so as to be fitted for 
God's service in the world." 

"Pearl, in the Mersey, loth March, 1858. — My 
Dear Tom : We are off again, and we trust that he 
who rules the waves will watch over us and remain 
with you, to bless us and make us blessings to our 
fellow men. The Lord be with you, and be very 
gracious to you ! Avoid and hate sin, and cleave to 
Jesus as your Savior from guilt." 

It was six years before Livingstone returned 
again to England. During this time he explored the 
Zambezi and the Shire rivers, making his way about 
among the people, whatever the difficulties, always 
with success, because he knew how to win and keep 
their confidence and love by being himself ever 
truthful, ever fearless. Mrs. Livingstone returned 
with him to Africa on this trip, and died on April 
27, 1862, at Shupanga, where she was buried, and 
her husband went on alone to Lake Nyasa, making 

David Livingstone 13 

unwearied explorations, surmounting the obstacles of 
nature and bad men, and learning ever more and 
more about the iniquity of the trade in slaves. 

In 1864 he went to India and thence to England 
for the last time. While there he learned of the 
death of his son Robert, who fought on the North- 
ern side in the American Civil War and lies buried 
at Gettysburg, and his mother also died while he 
was on his way. He got home in time to fulfil 
her wish that one of her laddies should lay 
her head in her grave. He had another crowded 
year, which included the writing of a book, 
as his previous visit had done, and then with 
the last public words in Scotland, "Fear God 
and work hard," he returned to Africa to open 
up the unknown eastern interior. This time his con- 
nection was with the Royal Geographical Society. 
For the first six years he explored eastern equatorial 
Africa, discovering new lakes, rivers, and moun- 
tains, exposing the slave-trade, suffering, struggling, 
but never yielding. One Christmas he writes, "Took 
my belt up three holes to relieve hunger." He had 
no white companion, and in 1866 the report reached 
Zanzibar that he had been killed. 

This story was found to be false, but still no white 
man had seen Livingstone for a long time. He was 
not seeking to be seen, however. In the dark of the 
interior, all alone, hungry and weary, he was press- 

14 Servants of the King 

ing on to open new country and to insure the future 
freedom of poor and oppressed peoples. In 1871 
he was reduced to the last straits, all the goods sent 
to him at Ujiji having been sold by the rascal 
Shereef to whom they had been consigned ; but just 
then Henry M. Stanley, who had been sent by the 
New York Herald to find him, came to him after a 
long search, bringing him ample stores. What im- 
pression he made on Stanley, Stanley himself has 
told us : 

"I defy any one to be in his society long without 
\j thoroughly fathoming him, for in him there is no 
guile, and what is apparent on the surface is the 
thing that is in him. . . . Dr. Livingstone is about 
sixty years old, though after he was restored to 
health he looked like a man who had not passed his 
fiftieth year. . . . You may take any point in Dr. 
Livingstone's character and analyze it carefully, and 
I would challenge any man to find a fault in it. . . . 
His is the Spartan heroism, the inflexibility 
of the Roman, the enduring resolution of the 
Anglo-Saxon — never to relinquish his work, though 
his heart yearns for home; never to surrender his 
obligations until he can write iinis to his work." 

Refreshed by Stanley's visit and the supplies he 
brought, Livingstone turned inland again, hunting 
for the source of the Nile and fighting the slave- 
trade. The iron frame had been taxed almost to its 


David Livingstone 15 

limit, however, and ever fresh difficulties had to be 
overcome. His last birthday, March 19, 1873, found 
him very weak. 

"The 29th of April was the last day of his travels. 
In the morning he directed Susi to take down the 
side of the hut that the kitanda might be brought to 
him, as the door would not admit it, and he was quite 
unable to walk to it. Then came the crossing of a 
river; then progress through swamps and plashes; 
and when they got to anything like a dry plain he 
would ever and anon beg of them to lay him down.' 
At last they got him to Chitambo's village, in Ilala, 
where they had to put him under the eaves of a 
house during a drizzling rain, until the hut they 
were building should be got ready. 

"Then they laid him on a rough bed in the hut, 
where he spent the night. Next day he lay undis- 
turbed. He asked a few wandering questions about 
the country — especially about Luapula. His people 
knew that the end could not be far off. Nothing oc- 
curred to attract notice during the early part of the 
night, but at four in the morning the boy who lay 
at his door called in alarm for Susi, fearing that 
their master was dead. By the candle still burning 
they saw him, not in bed, but kneeling at the bedside 
with his head buried in his hands upon the pillow. 
The sad yet not unexpected truth soon became evi- 
dent : he had passed away on the farthest of all his 

l6 Servants of the King 

journeys, and without a single attendant. But he 
had died in the act of prayer — prayer offered in that 
reverential attitude about which he was always so 
particular; commending his own spirit, with all his 
dear ones, as was his wont, into the hands of his 
Savior; and commending Africa — his own dear Af- 
rica — with all her woes and sins and wrongs, to the 
Avenger of the oppressed and the Redeemer of the 

His faithful African companions prepared his 
body for transportation to the coast, burying his 
heart and other organs at the foot of a mvula tree 
in Ilala, which is now marked with a rough inscrip- 
tion. The body they carried to Zanzibar. Thence 
it was taken to England and buried in the Abbey 
under the great slab which bears his name, and the 
feelings of the whole world were expressed in the 
lines in Punch: 

"Droop, half-mast colors, bow, bareheaded crowds. 
As this plain coffin o'er the side is slung. 
To pass by woods of masts and ratlined shrouds, 
As erst by Afric's trunks, liana-hung. 

" 'Tis the last mile of many thousands trod 
With failing strength, but never-failing will, 
By the worn frame, now at its rest with God, 
That never rested from its fight with ill. 

"Or if the ache of travel and of toil 

Would sometimes wring a short, sharp cry of pain 
From agony of fever, blain, and boil, 
'Twas but to crush it down and on again! 

David Livingstone 17 

"He knew not that the trumpet he had blown 
Out of the darkness of that dismal land, 
Had reached and roused an army of its own 
To strike the chains from the slave's fettered hand. 

"Now we believe, he knows, sees all is well ; 

How God had stayed his will and shaped his way, 
To brmg the light to those that darkling dwell 
With gains that life's devotion well repay. 

"Open the Abbey doors and bear him in 

To sleep with king and statesman, chief and sage, 
The missionary come of weaver-kin, 

But great by work that brooks no lower wage. 

"He needs no epitaph to guard a name 

Which men shall prize while worthy work is known ; / 
He lived and died for good — be that his fame : */ 

Let marble crumble: this is Living — stone." i 



I ask only Justice for a wronged and neglected race. 

~-Henry Benjamin Whipple 


H. 0). CxM^vV\AiL/ 



THERE are causes which need to be fought for. 
Sometimes it is right to fight for them with 
arms, though it is terrible when it is so. But wrong 
is not to be allowed to flourish unopposed, and those 
who oppose it must be prepared to meet it fearlessly. 
Often the conflict calls for no physical strife. It is a 
moral struggle. But it is a struggle, as truly as the 
work Paul had done and the life he had lived seemed 
to him to have been "a good fight." And Paul was 
glad that he had fought manfully, had put his soul in 
it, and, whatever his own fate, had prevailed. That 
is the only way to wage any battle. 

In the last century one of the great struggles was 
for justice to the American Indian. Little by little 
his lands were taken from him. He was driven west- 
ward from the East and eastward from the West. 
Hemmed in by the encircling and ever-contracting 
lines of white encroachment, his hunting-grounds 
were destroyed, the money promised him was squan- 
dered before it reached him, or, if it reached him, was 

22 Servants of the King 

made an occasion of debauching him, his manhood 
was ruined by the trade in Hquor, vices of which 
he never knew were introduced, and the solemn 
treaties made with him by the government were 
broken. At one of the councils between the govern- 
ment representatives and the chiefs of the Sioux, an 
aged Sioux, holding in his hands the treaties made 
with the Sioux, said : "The first white man who 
came to make a treaty promised to do certain things 
for us. He was a liar." He repeated the substance 
of each treaty, always ending with, "He lied." And 
his accusation was true. When Red Cloud was once 
asked for a toast at a public dinner, he rose and said : 
"When men part they look forward to meeting 
again. I hope that one day we may meet in a land 
where white men are not liars." 

The Indians needed a friend who would fight for 
them in their struggle against the Injustice and 
wrong with which they were forced to contend. And 
God raised up for them a defender. He tells us that 
as a small boy he had a foreshadowing of the battles 
he was to fight for his "poor Indians." 

"It was upon the occasion of a quarrel," he writes, 
"between a boy much older than myself and another 
half his size. Indignant at the unrighteousness of 
an unequal fight, I rushed upon the bully and in due 
season went home triumphant, but with clothes torn 
and face covered with blood. My dear mother, with 

Henry Benjamin Whipple 23 

an expression of horror upon her fine face, ran 
toward me and, putting her arms around me, cried : 
'My darhng boy, what has happened? Why are 
you in this dreadful condition?' *Yes, I know it's 
bad,' was my answer ; 'but, mother, you ought to see 
the other fellow!'" 

This boy was Henry Benjamin Whipple, the fu- 
ture Bishop of Minnesota, and the unwearied friend 
and protector of the Indians. He was born in 
Adams, Jefferson County, New York, on February 
15, 1822. At ten years of age he was sent to a 
boarding-school in Clinton, New York, and later to 
Oberlin College, where the great Charles G. Finney 
was then president. His health failed as a student, 
and he went into business and politics, where he did 
so well that when his health improved and he entered 
the Episcopal ministry, Thurlow Weed, one of the 
leading New York politicians, said that he "hoped 
a good politician had not been spoiled to make a 
poor preacher." One of his first lessons as a preacher 
was from an old judge, who, after what Henry felt 
was a great sermon, laid his hand on his shoulder 
and said : "Henry, no matter how long you live, 
never preach that sermon again. Tell man of the 
love of Jesus Christ, and then you will help him." 
'"It taught me," said Bishop Whipple, "that God's 
message in Jesus Christ is to the heart." 

His first preaching appointment was in Rome, 

24 Servants of the King 

New York. Then he went to Florida, and, working 
as he did always and everywhere for all sorts and 
conditions of men, gained a lifelong interest in the 
negro. Next he went to Chicago and established 
a new church there, gathering the people in from 
the highways and hedges and visiting every shop 
and saloon and factory within a mile of his hall. 
To get hold of the railway men he studied the struc- 
ture of steam-engines. 

In 1859 Mr. Whipple was elected Bishop of Min- 
nesota, and began his work in the fall, and imme- 
diately visited the Indians, of whom 20,000 lived in 
his diocese — the Chippewas, Sioux, and Winneba- 
goes — and saw for himself their dark condition. At 
the same time, as he said years later, he never found 
an atheist among the North American Indians, and, 
though the field was hard, that was the more reason 
for not neglecting it. 

The Bishop chose Faribault as his headquarters, 
and had his first service there on February 19, i860. 
It was a humble beginning in an insignificant vil- 
lage. Now there are a Divinity School, with gray- 
stone buildings, in a park of three acres; a Girls' 
School, with pleasant grounds, and Shattuck School 
for boys, with armory and elaborate buildings in a 
place of 160 acres. Though often opposed, even 
in Faribault, for his defense of the Indians, the 
Bishop won over all foes, and when in 1895 


Henry Benjamin Whipple 25^ 

the General Convention of the Protestant Epis- 
copal Church met in St, Paul, the delegates visited 
Faribault at the invitation of its citizens. How firm 
a hold the Bishop had gained upon the affections of 
the community was shown by what followed. There 
could be no better test of true character. One of 
the committee, a Roman Catholic, said, "There must 
be a four-horse carriage for our Bishop," and when 
it was suggested that the Bishop would think it un- 
necessary, he exclaimed, "The Bishop shall have a 
four-horse carriage if I pay for it myself." And 
when a Roman Catholic liveryman was asked how 
many carriages he could furnish for the occasion, he 
answered, "You can have every horse and carriage 
in my stable without a dollar of expense." 

The Bishop had plenty of rough-and-tumble work 
to do in the early years. Among other things, he 
learned early to pull teeth and to practise a little 
medicine, and used his knowledge on his next visit 
at White Fish Lake. 

"After the service a chief came to me and, with 
his hand on his cheek, said, 'Wibidakosi.' With a 
not unmingled sensation I boldly answered, *I will 
help you.' He opened his mouth, and to my dismay 
I saw that the sick tooth was a large molar on the 
upper jaw. But 'in for a penny, in for a pound.' It 
was a comfort to remember that Indians never show 
signs of pain, no matter how great the agony. I 

26 Servants of the King 

followed to the letter all the good doctor's directions 
and I did pull. In spite of appearances I knew it 
was the 'ligaments' and not an artery that I had cut, 
but I used salt as heroically as I did the forceps, and 
it was with no small degree of satisfaction that I 
heard the old chief telling his people that 'Kichi- 
mekadewiconaye was a great medicine man.' " 

He was lost in winter storms on the prairie, and 
he roughed it to and fro across the plains and among 
the frontier settlements, without any thought of 
sparing himself, only rejoicing that he could preach 
the real gospel to hungry hearts, which often wel- 
comed it in earnest but homely ways. After a ser- 
mon preached in a town, an old woman said to him, 
with tears in her eyes, "Thank God, I got a good 
boost to-day." A border man once said to him, 
"There are two kinds of preaching, one with the lips 
and one with the life, and life-preaching doesn't rub 

In 1 862 and again later there were outbreaks among 
the Indians in Minnesota, in which fearful outrages 
were perpetrated, but which would never have oc- 
curred had there been just dealing with the Indians. 
Bishop Whipple spoke out for fair dealing and 
against all revenge. In so doing he did what was 
very unpopular. He fearlessly met the hostility 
which his course aroused. When urged to omit his 
blackest charges against the nation for the wrongs 

Henry Benjamin Whipple 27 

inflicted on the Indians, he replied : "They are true 
and the nation needs to know them! And, so help 
me God, I will tell them if I am shot the next min- 
ute!" He made the charges before a gathering in 
Cooper Union, New York City, in 1868, and it led 
to the organization of the Indian Peace Commis- 
sion. But, though he was firm, he was seeking not 
to arouse enmity but to produce friendship, and he 
had a way of winning men which led Captain Wil- 
kins to say to some frontiersmen whom he heard 
declare that they "must go down to Faribault and 
clean out that Bishop" : "Boys, you don't know the 
Bishop, but I do ; he is my neighbor, and I will tell 
you just what will happen when you go down to 
'clean him out.' He will come on to the piazza and 
talk to you five minutes, and you will wonder how 
you ever made such fools of yourselves." The fron- 
tiersmen went no further. 

Bishop Whipple believed that it was rum which 
made most havoc among the Indians. At one 
Indian council he spoke very plainly against the 
evils of the use of the fire-water. The head chief of 
this band sometimes indulged in fire-water, and, be- 
ing a cunning orator, he arose and said : 

"You said to-day that the Great Spirit made the 
world and all things in the world. If he did, he 
made the fire-water. Surely he will not be angry 

28 Servants of the King 

with his red children for drinking a little of what 
he has made." 

Bishop Whipple answered : 

"My red brother is a wise chief, but wise men 
sometimes say foolish things. The Great Spirit did 
not make the fire-water. If my brother will show 
me a brook of fire-water I will drink of it with him. 
The Great Spirit made the corn and the wheat, and 
put into them that which makes a man strong. The 
devil showed the white man how to change this good 
food of God into what will make a man crazy." 

The Indians shouted "Ho! ho! ho!" and the chief 
was silenced. 

The greater part of the work of his diocese was 
not among the Indians, but in the fast-growing cities 
and towns of the white people. Among them for 
nearly half a century Bishop Whipple went to and 
fro establishing churches and building up Christian 
institutions and winning men to Christ. This last 
was his constant work wherever he was. 

He was tactful in trying to win all men. Bishop 
Whipple tells the following story in his remi- 
niscences. The Lights and Shadows of a Long 

"In the early days of my episcopate I often trav- 
eled by stage-coach, and my favorite seat was beside 
the driver. On one of these journeys from St. Cloud 
to Crow Wing the driver struck one of the wheel 

Henry Benjamin Whipple 29 

horses who was shirking his duty, accompanying the 
blow with a feartul curse. There were three pas- 
sengers on top of the coach, and, waiting until they 
were absorbed in conversation, I leaned toward the 
driver and said : 

" 'Andrew, does Bob understand English ?' 

" 'What do you mean. Bishop?' was the response. 
'Are you chaffing me ?' 

" 'No,' I answered. 'I really want to know why 
the whip was not sufficient for Bob, or was it neces- 
sary to damn him ?' 

"The man laughed and answered: 'I don't say 
it's right, but we stage-drivers all swear.' 

" 'Do you know what it is to be a stage-driver ?' 
I asked. 

" 'I ought to know,' was the reply. 'I've done it 
all my Hfe; it's driving four horses.' 

" 'Do you think that is all ?' I asked. 

" 'Well, it's all I have ever found in it,' was the 

"I said: 'Andrew, there is a civil war going on 
and men are fighting on the Potomac. There are 
five hundred troops at Fort Ripley, and there is no 
telegraph. There may be an order in this mail-bag 
for these troops to go to the front. If they get there 
before the next battle, we may win it ; if not, we may 
lose it. When you go down to-morrow there may be 
a draft in the mail-bag for a merchant to pay his 

30 Servants of the King 

note in St. Paul. If the St. Paul man receives the 
draft, he will pay his note in Chicago, and the Chi- 
cago man in turn can pay his note in New York. 
But if this draft does not go through, some one may 
fail and cause other failures, and a panic may ensue. 
Andrew, you are the man whom God in his provi- 
dence has put here to see that all this goes straight, 
and it is my opinion that you can do better than to 
use his name in cursing your horses.' 

"The man said nothing for some time, and then, 
looking earnestly into my face, he said : 

" 'Bishop, you've given me a new idea. I never 
thought of the thing in that way, and, God helping 
me, I will never use another oath.' 

"It changed the current of the man's life and he 
became an upright and respected citizen." 

His work was effective with men because they 
knew he loved and believed that God loved them. 
He also believed in the unity and fellowship of all 
who loved Christ. 

"The heaviest sorrows of my heart have come 
from a lack of love among brothers. When this 
love shall make men take knowledge of us that we 
have been with Jesus and compel them to say, 'See 
how these Churchmen love one another,' we may be, 
in God's hands, the instruments to heal these divi- 
sions which have rent the seamless robe of Christ. 
And when I plead for love I plead for love to all who 

Henry Benjamin Whipple 31 

love Christ. Shall we not claim as our kinsman 
Carey, the English cobbler, who went out as the first 
missionary to India, and who translated for them 
the Bible; and Morrison, the first missionary to 
China ; and David Livingstone, who died for Christ 
in heathen Africa; and Father Damien. who gave 
his life to save lepers; and the Moravians, who of- 
fered to be sold as slaves if the King of Denmark 
would permit them to carry the gospel to the black 

If all Christians felt this way more men would be 

In 1865 Bishop Whipple wTnt abroad and visited 
Egypt. Five years later he was in Europe again. 
In 1888 he attended the Lambeth Conference of 
Bishops of the Anglican Church in England and 
preached the opening sermon. On this visit he was 
given the degree of Doctor of Laws by Cambridge 
University, and made an Indian speech which he 
said "the boys cheered like mad." In 1890 his health 
led him again to Europe and Egypt, and he was re- 
ceived by the Queen at Windsor Castle and preached 
in Westminster Abbey on his Indians. Seven years 
later he was in England again, preaching and work- 
ing, and, as always, commending to men the love of 
their Heavenly Father. In 1899 he was back once 
more, and for the last time, to represent the Protes- 

32 Servants of the King 

tant Episcopal Church at the Centenary of the 
Church Missionary Society of England. 

But, though he went to and fro, he never laid down 
the work of his own field, and in 1871, after no little 
struggle of mind, refused to take the bishopric of 
the Hawaiian Islands offered by the Archbishop of 
Canterbury. It would have been a better climate for 
him, but he loved Minnesota, and at that time the 
Indians were a great and holy responsibility. When 
his health broke he got it repaired again, and his love 
of fishing, of which he was a master, and of open 
life helped to keep him strong. 

Bishop Whipple knew all the Presidents of the 
United States from Jackson to McKinley. He was 
a man of bright and hopeful spirit. He said, at the 
close of his volume of reminiscences : 

"My readers may think me an optimist, but a 
Christian has no right to be anything else. This is 
God's world, not the devil's. It is ruled by One who 
is 'the Lord our Righteousness,' 'the same yester- 
day and to-day, yea, and for ever.' . . . Ours is not 
a forlorn hope. We may, out of the gloom of our 
perplexed hearts, cry, 'Watchman, what of the 
night?' But faith answers, 'The morning cometh.' " 

Into the brightness of the city, where there is 
neither evening nor morning, but light forever, and 
light without light of sun or light of moon to shine 
upon it, because the glory of God alone lightens it, 

Henry Benjamin Whipple 33 

he passed on September 16, 1901, leaving behind 
him a great diocese as a memorial, and, what is even 
more than a great diocese, a great love in the hearts 
of men. 



I belong to God. —William Taylor 





OF good old American stock which ran back to 
the days before the Revolutionary War, Will- 
iam Taylor was born in Rockbridge County, Vir- 
ginia, May 2, 1 82 1. He was the first child in 
a family of five sons and six daughters. The v^'arm, 
enthusiastic faith of the Methodist Church laid hold 
on his father, and William drew breath in the same 
atmosphere and was marked out from boyhood for 
the work of the ministry. He was sent to his first 
circuit under appointment by the presiding elder 
when he was twenty-one. "He is muscular and 
bony," said Brother Seaver, describing his appear- 
ance at Crabbottom, "tall and slender, with an im- 
mense pair of shoulders on him. Being a tailor 
by trade, I may be allowed to say that the man who 
cut his coat ought to be sent to the penitentiary and 
put to hard labor till he learns his business; and 
as for the pants, all I have to say is that the widest- 
toed boots I ever saw were stuck about six inches 
too far through. The young man is awfully in 


38 Servants of the King 

earnest, and preaches with power, both human and 
divine, and can sing just as loud as he Hkes." 

He went straight at men for their Hves. At Red 
Holes he joined the men in log-rolling in the woods 
the afternoon of the day he was to preach. None of 
them could match him, and as he invited them to 
come to the meeting they exclaimed : "He's a tre- 
mendous fellow to roll logs." *'If he is as good in 
the use of the Bible as he is of the handspike he'll 
do." "He's the boy for the mountaineers." "He 
don't belong to your Miss Nancy, soft-handed, kid- 
gloved gentry." "Come on, boys, we'll hear the 
new preacher to-night." "In that afternoon," said 
he, "I got a grip on that people more than equivalent 
to six months' hard preaching and pastoral work." 

His salary at the beginning of his ministry was 
$ioo a year, and he did not need to spend all of 
this. He lived in the saddle and in his saddle-bags, 
and his one great book of study was the Bible. On 
his horse, as he rode about, his sermons were pre- 
pared and his great spiritual experiences came to 
him. On his way to a camp-meeting on the Fin- 
castle Circuit, in 1845, he says: "There, on my 
horse, in the road, I began to say more emphatically 
than ever before : *I belong to God. Every fiber of 
my being I consecrate to him. I consent to perfect 
obedience !' " That was the way he ever strove to 

William Taylor 39 

It was not long before he was sent from the 
country circuits to the city, first to Georgetown and 
then to Baltimore. Even here he found occasions 
when his great physical strength was an advantage 
to him. 

"One of my class-leaders," he said of an experi- 
ence at Georgetown, "a man of great physical pro- 
portions and power, teased me for a tussle. I said, 
'Oh, my dear brother, I don't want a reputation of 
that sort,' and put him off a number of times; but 
one evening wife and I accepted an invitation to 
tea at Brother Wardel's, on Bridge Street, and as 
we sat conversing with the family and a few guests, 
in came my big class-leader, and as I shook hands 
with him he said, 'Brother Taylor, I have come to 
throw you down/ and with that, pinning both my 
arms in his embrace, he made a heave against me 
and threw me down in the presence of the company. 
I got up and said, 'Well, my dear brother, if nothing 
else will satisfy your curiosity you may take your 
hold and give me mine, and we will see how the 
game will go.' So, in the best temper possible, we 
each got our grip ; I embraced him kindly, and with 
my right wrist in the grasp of my left hand, and 
my right fist clenched and set in the small of his 
back, with a sudden heave from the shoulders and a 
jerk of the hand-grip I sent him on a straight tum- 
ble, measuring his whole length on the floor, while I 

40 Servants of the King 

kept my feet and in a second stood erect. I did not 
utter a word, but went and sat down by my wife. 
The brother arose quietly and, without a word, took 
his seat. He was a grand and good man, but inno- 
cently playful. I knew him intimately for many 
years afterward, and there never was a discordant 
note struck in our mutual friendship; but I never 
alluded to our trial of strength in his presence." 

While in Baltimore, Bishop Waugh asked him to 
go to California to found a mission there, where 
the discovery of gold was drawing many pioneers. 
Years later Taylor wrote of this : "I replied, 'Well, 
Bishop Waugh, I can only say, when I was ad- 
mitted into the Conference the question was put to 
each member of our class, "Are you willing to be 
appointed to foreign missionary work in case your 
services shall be needed in foreign fields ?" Most of 
the class put in qualifying words and conditions, 
and some said emphatically "No !" but I said "Yes," 
I had not thought of such a possibility, and had 
no thought of offering myself for that or any other 
specified work, but I was called to preach the gospel 
by the Holy Spirit, under the old commission, "Go 
ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every 
creature," and I suppose that includes California. I 
never volunteered for any field or asked for an ap- 
pointment to any particular place, but have always 
been ready and am now to accept, as a "regular in 

William Taylor 41 

the service," an appointment under the appointing 
authority of our Church to any place covered by the 
great commission. It is not for me to say that I 
am the man suitable for California, but leaving my- 
self entirely at God's disposal, giving you wisdom to 
express his will concerning me, I will cheerfully 
accept your decision and abide by it.' " 

He went home and consulted his wife, and in 
1849 they sailed for California, via Cape Horn, tak- 
ing with him a chapel 24x36 feet all ready to be put 
together. Everything was costly in those days. 
Rent for a shanty was $500 a month. So William 
Taylor went into the woods, cut down timber, 
hauled it, and built a house and made his work self- 
supporting almost from the start. He preached on 
the streets of San Francisco, visited the hospitals, 
worked with sailors, miners, and merchants, and 
dealt with tact and love with all classes of the raw 
and variegated society of the new city. 

After seven years in California, Taylor returned 
to the East and preached over the Eastern States and 
Canada. Nothing ever daunted him. "I think I 
could count on my fingers," he said, "the times I 
failed through a period of fifty years to keep my 
appointments, and they were on account of snow- 
drifts and floods well known to the people." He had 
what one called *'the locomotive habit." "He must 
go and go," said Ridpath. "Of course, while he 

42 Servants of the King 

was speaking the demands of his nervous nature 
were satisfied with that kind of expenditure. But I 
think he could neither sit nor stand nor pose. We 
have in physical nature what is called the unstable 
equilibrium. This William Taylor had in his inner 
man. I do not mean to compare this venerable 
apostle of the nineteenth century with the eldest of 
Jacob's sons. The instability in the case of the 
bishop relates only to the excess and vehemence of 
his nervous forces, demanding action, action, action." 

He had a wonderful energy of speech, and his 
preaching was just direct personal conversation 
fitted to the exact circumstances, and his ceaseless 
aim was to save souls. 

In February, 1862, he was preaching in Peter- 
boro, Canada, and was the guest of a gentleman 
who had been in Australia, and who told him of the 
conditions there. He went out into the forest, 
kneeled down in the snow, and asked God whether 
he ought to go to Australia. He was convinced 
that he ought. His family returned to California, 
and he sailed August i, 1862, for Liverpool on his 
way. For seven months he worked as an evangelist 
in Great Britain and Ireland and then went on to 
the Holy Land. There his long patriarchal beard 
secured him reverential treatment from the Ori- 
entals, including the Moslems, as he traveled over 
the land and visited the holy places. In Australia 

William Taylor 43 

he carried on evangelistic campaigns for three years, 
conducting great revivals. "The three annual ses- 
sions of the Australian Conference," wrote Taylor 
long afterward, "held during the period of my labors 
within its bounds, covering a period of nearly three 
years, reported a net increase in their churches of 
over eleven thousand members." 

From Australia Taylor planned to go on to India, 
and sent for his family. The mother and three sons 
came to Sydney, and Taylor was summoned there 
from Melbourne by the news that the oldest of the 
boys was very sick of fever. 

"The steamer from Melbourne to Sydney was 
packed from stem to stern with a crowd of fast 
men who were on their way to a shooting-match. 
' They spent their evenings largely around the dining- 
table, playing cards, smoking cigars, drinking 
brandy, and cracking jokes. So my book on holi- 
ness, which has had a circulation of about thirty 
thousand copies, was mainly written in the midst 
of that crowd by the same light in which they were 
playing cards, with oaths from the unlucky losers. 

"I had not seen my family for over four years. 
I kissed my wife and wept. Ross had grown out of 
my knowledge; I took him into my arms and kissed 
him and said, 'Ross, do you know me?' He said 
*Yes, papa.' 'How did you come to know me?' 
'My mother told me it was you.' So he received 

44 Servants of the King 

me by faith, based on his mother's testimony. Then 
Edward, who was only two years old when I left 
him, came in. I took him into my arms and kissed 
him and said, 'Do you remember me?' 'Yes, papa.' 
'How did you come to know me ?' 'Oh, I remember 
you very well.' He probably remembered me by 
my photo, with which he was familiar. Our poor 
son Stuart was suspended in a doubtful scale be- 
tween life and death. Dr. Moffitt, an eminent phy- 
sician, in consultation with another, was doing the 
best he could. Ross, Edward, and I went into a 
retired place in the suburbs of the city and had a 
prayer-meeting for their brother. I prayed with all 
the earnestness of a broken heart ; Ross prayed and 
Edward prayed, and the three of us wept together. 
Soon Stuart began to show signs of recovery. We 
were then on the eve of the hot season in Australia." 

So the doctor advised their going to South Africa, 
and thither they went. 

In South Africa, Taylor preached to English, 
Dutch, and natives, to the Dutch and natives through 
interpreters, but apparently with no less power on 
that account, although he had difficulty in getting 
interpreters who would speak as naturally and di- 
rectly as he always did and urged that others should 
do. Most of his time he spent among the Kaffirs, 
conducting revivals and organizing the work. He 
regarded it as a military campaign, and appealed to 

William Taylor 45 

men to throw themselves into work for Christ as 
into a great war. "Such a work would wake the 
heroic elements of man's nature. How they are 
brought out by the tocsin of war! Within the last 
five years nearly a million of men have laid down 
their lives on the altar of patriotism. A low type 
of Christianity that does not enlist and employ the 
whole man sinks down to a formal secondary thing 
with him, and the active elements of his nature are 
carried off into other channels of enterprise. The 
heroic power of man's nature, enlisted and sanctified 
by the Holy Spirit, is essentially the old martyr 
spirit which kept the gospel chariot moving in the 
olden times. What had Garibaldi ever to offer to 
his soldiers? But did he ever call in vain for an 
army of heroes ready to do or die? He knew how 
to arouse the heroic element of men's hearts. 

"Every passion and power of the human mind 
and heart should be sanctified by the Holy Spirit 
to the purposes for which they were designed. 
There is no field of enterprise to which the heroic 
element of our nature is better adapted or more 
needed than the great battle-field for souls, enlisting 
all the powers of hell on the one side and all the 
powers of heaven on the other. What a heroic 
record the Gospels give of the labors, sufferings, 
death, and resurrection of the Captain of our sal- 
vation and the noble army of martyrs trained under 

46 Servants of the King 

his personal ministry! Give these gospel methods 
of aggression a fair trial in southern Africa." 

In 1866 Taylor went with his family to England. 
Here, as in all his work, he believed in and prac- 
tised self-support. At Tunbridge Wells a gentle- 
man handed him a check for a hundred pounds as 
a present. 

"I thanked him for his kindness," writes Taylor 
in his Story of My Life, "but informed him it was 
a principle with me not to receive presents from 
anybody, and passed it back to him. He stood silent 
for a few moments in apparent surprise ; he had not 
been accustomed to meet men of that sort. 

" 'But you sell books, do you not ?' said he, 

" 'Yes, I have two methods of extending the 
kingdom of Christ among men, the pulpit and the 
press. I depend on the press, by means of my 
books, to pay a big church indebtedness, support my 
family, and meet all my traveling expenses, all on 
the principle of business equivalents, and decline to 
receive gifts.' 

" 'Well,' said he, 'will you give me an open order 
on your binder for all the books I want to buy?' 

" 'Yes, sir ; that is business on my line.' 

"He was the only man who got a chance to help 
me found the self-supporting churches in India, out 
of which four Annual Conferences are being de- 
veloped. I never asked him for anything, never 

William Taylor 47 

hinted to him that I was in need of money, but in 
assisting to build houses of worship for our Indian 
churches, I seldom ever felt the pressure of need that 
I did not receive a check from Brother Reed on 
book account." 

In a few months Mrs. Taylor and the younger 
children returned to San Francisco, and Mr. Taylor 
went to the West Indies. The whole world was 
indeed his parish. He visited and preached in Bar- 
bados and British Guiana, in Trinidad, Jamaica, and 
other islands. At Georgetown, Demerara, he found 
the District Conference assembled and in a snarl. 
One of the revivals which he stirred wherever he 
went lifted the conference beyond its controversy, but 
one brother kept reviving it. "So I said to him," 
writes Taylor, "Brother Greathead, I want to tell 
you a story," and he said "All right." 

"I have heard of a man who killed an opossum. 
He killed it dead and dug a hole in the ground and 
buried it. A neighbor saw him go every few days 
for a fortnight and dig up the opossum and give 
him another mauling. He said, 'What do you mean 
by digging up that opossum? You killed him dead 
the first time. You keep digging him up and beat- 
ing him ; what do you mean ?' Said he, *I want to 
mellow him.' 

"I said, 'Now, Brother Greathead, we killed and 

48 Servants of the King 

buried an old opossum last Sunday, and we must 
let him sleep.' " 

His next work was in Australia and Tasmania 
again, after a short trip to Europe in 1869 and 
1870, and then he began his campaign in India, 
landing in Bombay on November 20, 1870, and 
going up straightway to the great Methodist center 
of work at Lucknow. He began at once to work 
for the Eurasians, the people of mixed European 
and Indian blood, who constituted a large class in 
India and for whom little had been done. He urged 
that their souls were as precious as any, and that 
there was a great deal of strength among them which 
should be in use in the evangelization of India. He 
worked also among Parsees, Hindus, and Moham- 
medans, and his message laid hold of them. Some 
Afghan Moslem soldiers at one meeting declared, 
"This preaching is all true. It has loosened a knot 
in our hearts, and we are untying it." But the great 
work was for the Eurasian people, and his idea was 
to build up self-supporting churches. "We are not 
opposed," he wrote, "to missionary societies, or to 
the appropriation of missionary funds to any and 
all missions which may require them. Our ground 
on this point is simply this : There are resources in 
India, men and money, sufficient to run at least one 
great mission. If they can be rescued from worldly 
waste and utilized for the soul-saving work of God, 

William Taylor 49 

why not do it? All admit that self-support is, or 
should be, the earnest aim of every mission. If a 
work in India, the same as in England or America, 
can start on this healthy, sound principle, is it not 
better than a long, sickly, dependent pupilage, which 
in too many instances amounts to pauperism? I am 
not speaking of missionaries, but of mission churches. 
We simply wish to stand on the same platform ex- 
actly as our churches in America, which began poor 
and worked their way up by their own industry and 
liberality, without funds from the Missionary So- 
ciety. The opening pioneer mission work in any 
country may require, and in most cases has required 
and does require, some independent resources which 
the pioneer missionary brings to his new work be- 
fore he can develop it or make it self-supporting. 
Thus St. Paul depended on his skill as a tent-maker, 
and missionaries ordinarily have to depend on mis- 
sion funds. Ten times the amount of all the money 
now raised for mission purposes would not be ade- 
quate to send one missionary for each hundred thou- 
sand of heathens now accessible." 

The work in India grew greatly under his tire- 
less, restless activity, and he became superintendent 
of the churches which were established on the in- 
dependent basis in which he believed. Long before 
his death, however, the work in India and elsewhere 
which he had founded passed into connection with 

5© Servants of the King 

the regular machinery of the Church. His work 
was to give the great initial impulse. 

From India he returned in 1877 to the United 
States, and sailed that fall for South America. "I 
did not wish our friends to see us off," said he, "and 
they didn't come. I always prefer to come in and 
go out as quietly as possible; indeed, coming and 
going all the time, as I have been doing more than 
a quarter of a century, my friends could not an- 
ticipate my changes. 

"On the eve of one of my departures from London 
to Australia a gentleman said, 'Mr. Taylor, what is 
your address now ?' 

" 'I am sojourning on the globe, at present, but 
don't know how soon I shall be leaving.' " 

His funds were low, and he went third-class. 
"I believed," he said, "that my dignity would keep 
for eighteen days in the steerage." On the West 
Coast he found many foreign communities which 
were willing to promise support to teachers from the 
United States if Mr. Taylor would furnish them. 
He saw his opportunity in this, and returned to find 
the twelve men and six women he wanted. He sent 
them out to support themselves and do such mis- 
sionary work as they could in Chile, Peru, Ecuador, 
Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, and Brazil. 
Many of them met with great difficulties and re- 
turned home. In some cases useful and influential 

William Taylor 51 

schools were established which abide. The whole 
work is now under the regular care of the Methodist 
Episcopal Church through its bishops and missionary 
society. The plan of self-support is often prac- 
ticable, and there must be room for such free and 
independent workers, but, as in the case of William 
Taylor's missions, the loss and waste would be much 
greater than it has been, if there were not permanent 
missionary organizations which believe in self-sup- 
port as earnestly as Taylor did, but which believe, 
also, in the value of organized and sustained effort. 
The mistake which Bishop Taylor made was in ex- 
pecting the native Church to support, not only its 
native workers, but also the foreign missionaries. 

In 1884 the old rugged warrior, now grown gray, 
was made Missionary Bishop of Africa. "I was 
not a candidate for any office in the gift of that 
venerable body," said Taylor, in discussing his 
election. "Subsequently, when nominated for the 
missionary episcopate of Africa, I hurriedly inquired 
of a number of the leading members of that body 
whether or not that meant any interference with 
my self-supporting mission work; if so, I should 
certainly refuse to have the nomination submitted. 
They assured me that the General Conference had no 
such design, but just the opposite ; that they wanted 
me to introduce self-supporting methods into Africa ; 

52 Servants of the King 

and that fact was compressed into the short sentence 
of 'Turn him loose in Africa.' " 

He went out with a company of over forty men, 
women, and children. At St. Paul de Loanda one 
died, and eight or ten more, sick or discouraged, 
returned home. The remainder settled in Angola, 
Leaving his first company there, Taylor returned to 
Europe, saw the King of Portugal, in whose terri- 
tory he had begun his new work, and the King of 
Belgium, the head of the Congo Free State, in which 
the second chain of stations was soon begun, to be 
followed by an enlarged work in Liberia. The great 
service which he performed for Africa was in lifting 
his Church out of the narrow limits of Liberia and 
committing it to a continental task. For twelve 
years Bishop Taylor worked in Africa, and then in 
1896 was retired from active duty. The old man 
accepted his retirement like a soldier^ and issued a 
note in which he said : 

"Many of my friends think and declare that the 
action of the General Conference which kindly put 
my name on the honorable list of retired heroes, such 
as Bishop Bowman and Bishop Foster, was a mis- 
take. No such thought ever got a night's lodging 
in my head or heart. I have for fifty-four years 
received my m.inisterial appointments from God. If 
any mistakes were made, through the intervention of 
human agency, they did not fall on me. For the 

William Taylor 53 

last twelve years God has used me in Africa as 
leader of a heroic host of pioneer missionaries in 
opening vast regions of heathendom to direct gospel 
achievement, which will go on 'conquering and to 
conquer' till the coming of the King, if no bishop 
should visit them for half a century, but the General 
Conference has appointed as my episcopal successor 
a tried man of marvelous adaptability. 

"Bequests and deeds to mission property are made 
to Bishop William Taylor or to his 'living successor.' 
Bishop J. C. Hartzell is now my 'living successor.' 
If he should die, or superannuate, then the episcopos 
appointed by the General Conference to take his 
place at the front would be my 'living successor.' 
I bespeak for Bishop Hartzell, on behalf of my 
work and faithful workers at the front, all the lov- 
ing sympathy and financial cooperation of all my 
beloved patrons and partners in this great work of 
God. 'And you are going to lie on the shelf?' I 
am not a candidate for 'the shelf.' I am accustomed 
to sleep in the open sparkling of the stars, and re- 
spond to the bugle blast of early morn. 

"At present 

God calls me from mudsill preparation — 

John the Baptist dispensation — 
To proclaim more widely the Pauline story 

Of our coming Lord and of his glory. 

"Under this call of God I expect to lead thousands 

'54 Servants of the King 

of Kaffirs into his fold. In an evangehzing cam- 
paign of a few years through southern and eastern 
Africa I will, D. V., strike the warpath of the grand 
heroic leader of our Inhambane and South Zambezi 
missions — Rev. E. H. Richards. I will, D. V., go 
directly from New York to Cape Town, South 

And thither he went, and during fourteen months 
of further labors, until his voice failed, won many 
more converts to Christ. 

On May i8, 1902, at Palo Alto, Cal., the old 
missionary, who had preached on every continent 
and founded churches in many lands, finished his 
work. He was one who had ideas of his own and 
whose work other men have had to carry forward on 
other plans. But he wrought with mighty power 
and unafraid of all that might oppose. He was one 

"Who never turned his back, but marched breast-forward, 

Never doubted clouds would break, 
Never dreamed tho' right were worsted, wrong would triumph. 
Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better. 
Sleep to wake." 



Father, make us pure and holy, 

Father, make us good; 
Show us how to love each other 

As we should. 

— Alice Jackson 


ill^c-^ /c::-t^<^e^^^^«-t_ 



ALICE JACKSON was born at Styal, Cheshire, Eng- 
land, on December 19, 1876. Her father, Stan- 
way Jackson, was an ardent Liberal in politics, an effec- 
tive party worker, and a powerful platform speaker. 
He had a keen interest, which Alice inherited, in all 
movements of social progress, and his interest, as 
hers, sought expression in practical helpfulness. He 
was a member of the Church, superintendent of the 
Sunday-school, teacher of a men's Bible class, and 
leader of a children's service. On her mother's side, 
Alice was descended from a long line of Congrega- 
tional ministers, and from both sides of the family 
inherited her interest in foreign missions. Alice 
was brought up by her mother and father, the latter 
of whom died when she was nearly thirteen, with 
the idea that work in the church and for the com- 
munity was a matter of course. 

In October, 1884, the family came to America and 
made its home at Englewood, N. J., where Alice 
lived until she went away to Smith College in the 


58 Servants of the King 

fall of 1894. She was, like many children, shy and 
diffident, and often shrank from meeting people. In 
her simple unselfishness she would think she was not 
wanted in one or another company, and would re- 
tire, accordingly, into the background. She had an 
intense reticence of character, which always made 
it hard and therefore all the more impressive for her 
to speak of the deepest things. She was not a very 
strong child, and this brought the temptation of irri- 
tability, and one of her first battles was the battle 
which she victoriously won for self-control. When 
the shadow of a great limitation fell in later years 
and she suffered much, even her closest friends 
would not have known it from any outward betrayal, 
and she had learned this lesson of complete self-mas- 
tery as a child. 

Her childhood, as all her later life, was filled with 
joyous good humor and playfulness of spirit. She 
had a great desire to hear funny things to make her 
laugh. As a child she would say, "Tell me some- 
thing funny. I like to laugh." And in later years 
she always saw the ludicrous side of things, and no 
one who ever heard can forget the silvery ripple of 
that laughter which lightened all her talk. She was 
very fond in these early years of big words and of 
pets and of all living things. She informed an older 
sister one day that she knew a certain person was 
engaged to be married, for she saw her wear a dia- 

Alice Jackson 59 

mond ring, and "so my superstitions were imme- 
diately enlarged." 

She was not a robust child. How serious her 
physical limitations were few ever discovered, ex- 
cept when she was suffering from the disease which 
ended her life. She appeared to work with exhaust- 
less energy. During her college course, in spite of 
her childhood's delicate health, she was exceptionally 
proficient in athletic games. That was in part due 
to her nervous energy and in part to her indomitable 
purpose. What she made up her mind to do she did, 
and nothing could change any purpose she had dis- 
tinctly formed. She would readily give up any wash 
of hers for the sake of another, but she would not 
be swerved from her own conviction one hair's 
breadth. Characteristic of this unswerving purpose 
was her determination as a child to learn her home 
lessons in the family sitting-room, where all the 
older members gathered after dinner to chat. She 
could not be persuaded to go into a quiet room apart. 
She liked company, and she liked even then to prove 
to herself that she could so concentrate her attention 
as not to hear what was going on around her. Per- 
haps to this self-planned discipline of mind may be 
due much of her later power to accomplish work at 
all times and in all surroundings. After completing 
her preparation at the Dwight School in Englewood, 
Alice entered Smith College in the fall of 1894. 

6o Servants of the King 

There she was given the nickname of Ajax. One 
of her classmates wrote in the Smith College Monthly 
for January, 1907, of what AUce was and did in 
college : 

"Unusually versatile, Alice Jackson entered into 
almost every phase of our college life, and whatever 
she touched became beautiful in her doing of it. 
Whether in work or in play, she reached out always 
for the underlying ideal, unconscious of herself save 
as an instrument of service. A member of the bas- 
ket-ball team, she played a wonderful game, swiftly, 
quietly, efficiently, and fairly, always in the helpful 
place, never grasping an opportunity for individual 
glory at the expense of the team work. She grasped 
the ethics of the game and never even knew there 
w-as a selfish side. At the close of our official sopho- 
more game, as we, crushed, tragic children, were 
trying to grip the fact bravely that for the first time 
in our college history the game had gone officially to 
the freshmen, it was our Ajax who found for us the 
key to the situation, 'It's Une for the freshmen.' 

"So in the college honors which, as a matter of 
course, came to her lot, in Alpha, Biological Society, 
Colloquium, editor of the Monthly, and as a member 
of other organizations, religious, social, and intellec- 
tual, she regarded her election not as a cause for self- 
congratulation, not as a tribute to her own abilities, 
but simply as an opportunity for further usefulness. 

Alice Jackson 6i 

It was in this spirit that she entered into the Shake- 
speare prize essay contest, not with the desire of win- 
ning the prize for lierself, but in order to fill out the 
necessary number of competitors. When word came 
to her that the prize had been awarded to her essay, 
she received the news with a burst of grief and dis- 
appointment. 'I thought C. would get the prize! 
She worked so hard.' " 

Perhaps she grasped the class spirit so quickly be- 
cause she was one of a large family of children who 
had always "done things together." Her idea of 
work had always been "team work," and a little 
home incident illustrates this. An elder sister was 
to be married, and the children, wishing to make the 
wedding gift their very own, planned to pick black- 
berries, sell them to their mother, and buy the pres- 
ent with their earnings. When the contents of the 
baskets were measured, Alice's proved to hold twice 
as much as either of the others, and so four teacups 
were bought instead of three; but the four, she in- 
sisted, should be given "from us all three together." 

The Christian life, which had always been the 
dominant thing in her, came to full development in 
college. And as college closed, the thoughts of child- 
hood ripened to large missionary purposes. In a 
letter written three years later she described the 
growth of her Christian experience and desire for 
Christian service: 

62 Servants of the King 

"I do not think that my Christian experience has 
differed very much from that of most children of 
God-fearing parents. My father and mother loved 
God and trusted absolutely in him, and I grew up 
to love him, too, and to see, at first through them 
and then for myself, how he is indeed the lov- 
ing, heavenly Father, who is always ready to help 
and strengthen his children, to bring comfort in 
sorrow, strength in the time of trial, to give power 
to overcome all temptations, and to sanctify and 
purify and beautify all life. 

"During my senior year at college I was asked 
to serve as the chairman of our class prayer-meet- 
ing committee, and I think that at that time, in plan- 
ning the work and in prayer for a deeper spiritual 
life in the college, I came closer to God than ever 
before. It seems strange that just after graduating 
from college, doubts as to whether there really was 
a God should arise. It seemed for the moment that 
the whole story of the Christ and of the Father 
might be a most beautiful legend, and one which I 
longed to believe, but had no right to do so unless 
I really knew it to be true. I determined to pray to 
God just the same, trusting that if there really was a 
God he would answer my prayer and give me a 
clearer vision of himself, and soon the doubts and 
troubles cleared away. 

"Since that time Christ has seemed nearer and 

Alfce Jackson 63 

more real than ever before, and I know and feel that 
he is indeed the truest and dearest of friends, who is 
ahvays near and ready to help and to sympathize. I 
think that I long now with an ever-deepening desire 
to do God's will and to live as Christ did, a life of 
loving, unselfish service. 

"Ever since a small child I have always longed to 
go and live among the poor and unhappy. At first 
not from any idea of doing missionary work, but 
simply because my own life had had so much happi- 
ness in it that I could not bear to think of any one 
else being unhappy. I wanted to share my joy with 

"I always had a great admiration for missionaries, 
but their lives seemed to me to be so set apart, so 
far above my life or anything that I could ever be- 
come, that I never thought that I myself might one 
day be a missionary. It was not until the summer 
of 1898, when I was asked if I was not willing to 
go abroad as a missionary, that the possibility of 
really being able to do so came to me with any force. 
At Northfield, that same summer, I was taught that 
God can use our lives, and, working through us, can 
teach us how to bring others into his kingdom. Since 
that time I have longed to be a missionary, that I 
may not only share the joy that has come into my 
life with others, but that I may tell them of the love 

64 Servants of the King 

of God, believing that through him they may be 
brought into lives of happiness and usefulness." 

But before she offered herself for missionary ser- 
vice, she turned- to the opportunities and responsibili- 
ties near at hand which called to her, and which of- 
fered the best preparation for the work to which she 
looked forward. And, as it turned out, she never 
went abroad and her life-work was as a missionary 
at home. She took up work in the New York School 
of Pedagogy, teaching at the same time, first in 
Brooklyn and then in Miss Audubon's school in 
New York, and working as a volunteer worker in 
the Christodora House. The following two years, 
1 899- 1 90 1, she was secretary of the Girls' Club at 
Greenfield, Mass. It was at this time that she of- 
fered herself for work in China. 

"About China," she wrote, "I do long to go there 
more deeply than to any other place, and especially 
in the interior or to northern China. Mother wrote me 
the other day that I could not go to China next year. 
I think that the only reason is the danger, and I feel 
that when I can talk to her myself about it she may 
be willing to let me go in the autumn. At the same 
time, though my greatest desire is centered in China, 
I want to go wherever my life is going to be the most 
useful, and I don't want to let any personal desires 
come in. So, if it is really not best for me to go 
there, it will be a great joy to go to some other coun- 

Alice Jackson 65 

try. I really do want to go or to stay, whichever is 
best, only I cannot help hoping that I may be fitted 
for a life abroad. As I have written you, I long to 
go as soon as possible (if I shall prove to be fitted for 
such work), but I do want to have the best prepara- 
tion and so be really useful." 

The mission board's medical adviser declined to 
approve Alice's appointment, and informed the 
board and told her that probably she could never go 
to the mission field. He discovered that she was suf- 
fering from an ailment (diabetes) from which she 
could not hope to recover. She refused to be daunted, 
however, and, though she left the Girls' Club at 
Greenfield, went steadfastly on in her work at home, 
at the same time that she sought to carry out faith- 
fully all the advice of the physician, whom, as with all 
whom she ever met, she made her fast friend. Noth- 
ing could disturb her serene and joyful confidence 
that if it was God's will she would get to China. 

The summer of 1901 she spent at the Christodora 
House in New York City, a Christian social settle- 
ment on Avenue B, near Tenth Street. She had 
worked there before, and always went back when 
she could. She founded the Mothers' Club, begin- 
ning by asking the mothers of some of the children in 
the clubs to come and drink coffee and sing German 
songs once a week at the House. The club from its 
beginning of six German women, who met to talk 

66 Servants of the King 

over their children and to sew, is now going on with 
a membership of thirty. She had clubs for girls, the 
"Loyalty" and the "Steadfast," and also a club for 
boys, which bore the name of "The Young Patriots' 
Club." She regularly taught the boys politeness, and 
greatly enjoyed the fact that the secretary of her 
"Young Patriots' Club" solemnly announced to an 
assembled audience at Cooper Union that the boys 
had spent the year in the study of "history, manners, 
and other relics." She wrote a little song for the 
children which became a great favorite : 


Father, hear thy little children 

As to thee we pray, 
Asking for thy loving blessing 

On this day. 

Father, make us pure and holy; 

Father, make us good. 
Show us how to love each other 

As we should. 

Through the day, O loving Savior, 

May we grow like thee. 
In the beauty all about us 

Thy reflection see. 

When at length the evening cometh 

And we fall asleep. 
In thy arms of love, thy children 

Safely keep. 

Father, hear thy little children 

While to thee we pray. 
Asking for thy loving guidance 

All this day. 

Alice Jackson 67 

The little children still sing the song every Sun- 
day afternoon. 

In the fall of 1902 Alice went back to Northamp- 
ton, Massachusetts, to become secretary of the Smith 
College Association for Christian Work, and re- 
mained till the summer of 1904. No years could 
be filled more full of rich and loving service than 
Alice Jackson filled these two years at Smith. What 
she had regarded as her limitations in childhood — 
her sensitiveness and her reserve — had developed 
into the very sources of her power. She was able 
to win every one, and there was no one whom she 
was not seeking to help and no work which she was 
not eager to do. 

No girls were left out of Alice's thought and plan- 
ning, and she sought especially, and with the most 
tactful sympathy, to help the Roman Catholic 
girls. In this she had the cordial help of Father 
Gallen of the Catholic church in Florence, a village 
near Northampton. Father Gallen has kindly writ- 
ten, with warm Christian sympathy, of his impres- 
sions of her and his estimate of her work : 

"From my knowledge of the splendid results that 
followed years of self-sacrificing labor I am con- 
vinced that the Christian workers of Smith College 
found the leader they needed so much in the person 
of Miss Alice Jackson. She enabled them to direct 
their best energies with good results in a spiritual 

68 Servants of the King 

way to themselves and others. All the churches ben- 
efited by her work, and especially my own. She sent 
me teachers for the Sunday-school — faithful, self- 
denying college girls. The distance from the col- 
lege to my church is two miles, and some of these 
girls, because of our early services on Sunday, were 
forced to leave their houses before the breakfast hour 
and to fast until noon. 

*'I have always felt that Alice Jackson had splen- 
did natural powers for Christian work. She was 
most gentle, yet persistent, in pursuing her object. 
In voice and manner there was a sympathetic quality 
so winning as to be irresistible. There seemed to be 
a perfect consonance between her charming person- 
ality and the beautiful teachings of the Master she 
served and loved so well. However, I like to think 
that her great success in her life-work was due to 
the grace supernatural bestowed by a loving Father 
in the light of whose presence I trust she may ever 

In the fall of 1904 Alice went to Ludlow, Massa- 
chusetts, as secretary of the Welfare Work of the 
Manufacturing Associates. The factories made 
coarse textiles and employed 2,000 people, mostly 
unskilled foreign labor and largely women and chil- 
dren. The company had built and owned most of 
the village, streets, also the water and electric light 
service. They had some 300 houses, mostly single 

Alice Jackson 69 

cottages with small grounds about them. The town 
authorities manage the schools, which contained over 
600 children; but no instruction was given in cook- 
ing or sewing. During the year 1904-5 Alice took 
charge of the work for the women and children. 

All the while she was fighting her battle for 
health, and even for life, but with a smile so cheerful 
and an enthusiasm for others' interests so genuine 
that no one but her doctor and a few of her closest 
friends knew of the struggle that was going on. 

In the fall of 1905 she returned to New York to 
be under the doctor's closer care, but all the while to 
be busily at work as industrial secretary for the New 
York City Young Women's Christian Association. 
The work was among the girls in the factories in 
New York City and was carried on under the super- 
vision of a little committee, but Alice was left free 
to develop the work in accordance with her own 
ideas, the aim being to improve the condition of the 
girls, but more especially to improve the girls them- 
selves by winning them to the Lord Jesus Christ. 
During the year she taught on Sundays a class in 
Sunday-school, and, of course, kept in close touch 
with the work at Christodora House. She had 
assisted Miss Grace H. Dodge in the summer 
work of the vacation circles and so had gained an 
additional opportunity for meeting self-supporting 
women. "She once remarked to me," writes one of 

70 Servants of the King 

her sisters, "that there was only one shop in New 
York in which she did not know some of the sales- 
women, and on going there was immediately ad- 
dressed as a friend by one of them." 

The summer of 1906 Alice spent in good part at 
home in Englewood, where she found special ways 
of giving loving help to friends in need. And in the 
autumn she went, with the doctor's consent, to 
Wellesley, Massachusetts, to teach the Bible and to 
work among the girls in Miss Cooke's School, Dana 

In December what the doctor had long appre- 
hended came. The disease which she had coura- 
geously fought, to which she had never for one mo- 
ment surrendered, closed in inexorably. Her one 
thought, as always, was of others. "Don't let mother 
know I have any pain," was her entreaty. "Don't 
let mother be sad." Her suffering was not for many 
days, and on December 13 she entered into the great 
light for which she had longed and saw in his 
beauty the King she had ever loved and served. 

So she passed on, leaving behind her a trail of 
glorious service. The Wednesday after her death 
would have been her birthday. It was her birthday, 
only not here, but in a far fairer country. There, 
beyond all the pain and limitation against which she 
strove bravely, she began the blessed service of eter- 
nity, fitted for it by the purity and unselfishness of 

Alice Jackson 71 

the life which Christ had lived in her and which 
she had described in verses which she wrote about 
another for one Christmas Day : 

"Her life was one of sweet simplicity. 

Forgetting self, unconsciously each day, 
She taught the lesson of that sweet denial. 

The joy of those who on the altar lay 
Their lives — to take them up again for others, 

Who to the world deep joy and gladness bring. 
Fulfilling by their daily lives the message 

Which on the Christmas morn the angels sing." 



I prefer to work on quietly and at peace with all. . . 
The name is nothing, the real results are all. 

— Guido Fridolin Verbeck 


-^l^^t^'/^ ^,^^a^e^L/^(^^^. 



ON the 23d of January, 1830, at Zeist, Holland, 
a little Dutch baby-boy was born. His full 
name was Guido Herman Fridolin Verbeck. Sixty- 
eight years later the little Dutch boy, grown to be 
a man, died in Tokyo, Japan. When he died he 
was not a Dutchman, and he was not a Japanese. 
Indeed, he was a man without any country of his 
own. Yet he was a Dutchman and a Japanese. And 
he was also an American. So he had three coun- 
tries at the same time that he had none. How 
could such a thing be? 

He was a Dutchman because he was born in 
Holland and grew up as a boy in his father's com- 
fortable home near Zeist. "We lived," he said, 
"as Jacob did, in the free temple of nature, enjoy- 
ing the garden, the fruit, the flowers, with joy, on 
green benches between green hedges. And after 
sunset, when the stars were sparkling, then we 
brothers and sisters went lovingly arm in arm and 
passed our time in garden, wood, or quiet arbor, 


76 Servants of the King 

enjoying each other's happiness and God's peace. 
The winter days we spent mostly on the ice, but 
toward evening in the cozy twihght we gathered 
around the warm stove, to enjoy with all our heart 
our happiness. Then father told us many a 
story, and we sang many good and favorite songs; 
after lamps were lit we all engaged in reading, ate 
apples, nuts, and pears." He had colts and rabbits 
and poultry and peacocks for pets, and a boat for 
the canals which ran through the place and the 
country round about, into one of which he fell at 
the age of two years and was nearly drowned. He 
was confirmed with a brother in the Moravian 
church at Zeist and went to school in the Moravian 
Institute, where he learned Dutch and French and 
German, to which he added English at home. He 
and his sister took pains to teach themselves a good 
English accent. They taught their tongues to say 
"th" by repeating "Theophilus Thistle thrust three 
thousand thistles into the thick of his thumb." So 
he learned to speak English as well as any English- 
man. After graduating from the Institute at Zeist 
he entered the Polytechnic Institute at Utrecht and 
became an engineer. For twenty-two years the old 
Dutch house at Zeist was his home and then he left 

Next he became an American. In 1852 he came 
to Green Bay, Wisconsin, where a sister and her 

Guldo Fridolin Vcrbcck 77 

husband were living, intending to work in a foundry 
which a friend of his brother-in-law was establish- 
ing there for the manufacture of machinery for 
steamboats. On his way he was nearly wrecked on 
Lake Erie. He reached Green Bay after a rough 
journey, the last part of it by wagon and sleigh 
over terrible roads, only to find that the opportunity 
was disappointing. "I must see more of America," 
he said, "and be where I can improve myself. I am 
determined to be a good Yankee." He found em- 
ployment at Helena, Arkansas, where he was soon 
busy planning bridges and engineering improve- 
ments, but the climate was unfavorable and he fell 
ill of fever and was wasted to a skeleton. His sick- 
ness was a turning-point with him. He promised 
God that if he recovered he would consecrate his 
life to service in the missionary field. As soon as 
he could walk again he returned to Green Bay and 
took charge of the factory there. But the purpose of 
Christian service had been firmly fixed, and en- 
couraged and aided by a New York City business 
man he went to Auburn, New York, to the theologi- 
cal seminary in 1856. Just as he finished his course 
the call came to the seminary for an "Americanized 
Dutchman" for Japan. Commodore Perry had opened 
the long-sealed land in 1853-4. The first generous 
treaty had been negotiated in 1858. The Japanese 

7^ Servants of the King 

had long been friendly to Hollanders, and were now 
well-disposed to Americans, and Guido Verbeck had 
clearly been prepared for this very hour. He was 
all ready to go, and the Dutch lad, who had become 
an American, started in 1859 ^^ a missionary to 

He reached Nagasaki on November 4, 1859, His 
vessel steamed into the bay by moonlight. "With 
the first dawning of the day," he wrote, "I cannot 
describe the beauty that is before me. I have never 
seen anything like it before in Europe or America. 
Suppose yourself to be on the deck of a steamer with- 
in a port as smooth as a mirror, about sixteen neat 
vessels scattered about here and there, before you 
that far-famed Deshima, and around it and beyond 
an extensive city with many white-roofed and walled 
houses, and again all around this city lofty hills 
covered with evergreen foliage of great variety, and 
in many places spotted by temples and houses. Let 
the morning sun shine on this scene, and the morn- 
ing dews gradually withdraw like a curtain and hide 
themselves in the more elevated ravines of the sur- 
rounding mountains, and you have a very faint pic- 
ture of what I saw." When he landed the notice- 
boards prohibiting the Christian religion were scat- 
tered all over the country in city and village and by 
the roadside. This is what was inscribed on them : 

Guido Fridolin Verbeck 79 

"The Christian religion has been prohibited for many years. 
If any one is suspected, a report must be made at once. 


To the informer of a hater en (father), 500 pieces of silver. 
To the informer of an irunian (brother), 300 pieces of silver. 
To the informer of a Christian who once recanted, 300 pieces 

of silver. 
To the informer of a Christian or catechist, 300 pieces of 

"The above rewards will be given. If any one will inform 
concerning his own family, he will be rewarded with 500 
pieces of silver, or according to the information which he 
furnishes. If any one conceals an offender, and the fact is 
detected, then the head man of the village in which the con- 
cealer lives, and the 'five-men company' to which he belongs, 
and his family and relatives will all be punished together." 

Natives who associated with missionaries were 
looked upon with suspicion. 

"We found the nation not at all accessible touch- 
ing religious matters," wrote Dr. Verbeck long years 
afterward in speaking of these early days. "Where 
such a subject was mooted in the presence of the 
Japanese, his hand would almost involuntarily be 
applied to his throat, to indicate the extreme perilous- 
ness of such a topic." 

Still God had been preparing some to hear and 
accept the gospel. Before the policy of exclusion 
had been abandoned, and while a British fleet was 
in Japanese waters, the duty of guarding the coast 
at Nagasaki had been assigned to the daimio or 
baron of Hizen, and he delegated one of his min- 
isters, a house officer named Murata, whose title was 

8o Servants of the King 

Wakasa no Kami, to look after it. He was to keep 
the foreigners from the fleet out of Japan, and also to 
prevent Japanese from leaving the country to go 
abroad. Murata frequently went out by night and 
day in a boat to make sure of the success of his vari- 
ous measures for fulfilling his duty, and on one of 
these trips found a little book floating on the water. 
His curiosity was aroused and he became more inter- 
ested when he found out that it was about the 
Creator and the Christian religion. He sent a man to 
Shanghai and secured a translation of the book in 
Chinese and took it home with him to Saga. He 
was studying this book when Dr. Verbeck came to 
Nagasaki, and hearing of the missionary he sent his 
younger brother to get more information from him. 
In 1866 he and his brother and his two sons and a 
train of followers came to see Verbeck. "Sir," said 
he, "I cannot tell you my feelings when, for the first 
time, I read the account of the character and work 
of Jesus Christ. I had never seen, nor heard, nor 
imagined such a person. I was filled with admira- 
tion, overwhelmed with emotion, and taken captive 
by the record of his nature and life." The conversa- 
tion lasted for hours, and then, though the men 
knew they were facing death in doing it, they asked 
and received baptism, and twelve years after finding 
the book in the water went home as Christian be- 
lievers, the first converts of the young missionary. 

Guido Fridolin Verbeck 8i 

Already, however, great changes were passing 
over Japan. The old political order was over- 
thrown and a hunger for knowledge filled the land. 
Dr. Verbeck was asked by the government to open a 
school for foreign languages and science in Naga- 
saki. It was soon filled with more than one hundred 
pupils, among whom were many future statesmen of 
Japan, including one prime minister and the two 
sons of Prince Iwakura. From this school he sent 
out the first of the large company of more than 
five hundred young Japanese who came with his 
introduction to study in America. 

In 1868 came the great political upheaval with 
the retirement of the Shogun and the resumption 
of active rule by the Mikado, who took an oath in 
the presence of the nobles to establish the empire 
on the following principles : 

1. Government based on public opinion. 

2. Social and political economy to be made the 
study of all classes. 

3. Mutual assistance among all for the general 

4. Reason, not tradition, to be the guide of action. 

5. Wisdom and ability to be sought after in all 
quarters of the world. 

In consequence of the change, Dr. Verbeck was 
called from Nagasaki to Tokyo to establish a school 
for the government, and he accepted the call. This 

82 Servants of the King 

school grew into the Imperial University. At the 
same time, by force of his wide knowledge, his up- 
right character, his self-obliteration, and his devotion 
to the best interests of Japan, he became the great 
adviser of the men who were controlling her destiny. 
"It impressed me mightily," says Dr. Griffis, who 
visited him at this time, ''to see what a factotum Dr. 
Verbeck was, a servant of servants indeed, for I 
could not help thinking how he imitated his Master. 
I saw a prime minister of the empire, heads of de- 
partments, and officers of various ranks, whose per- 
sonal and official importance I sometimes did, and 
sometimes did not, realize, coming to find out from 
Dr. Verbeck matters of knowledge or to discuss 
with him points and courses of action. To-day it 
might be a plan of national education; to-morrow, 
the engagement of foreigners to important posi- 
tions; or the despatch of an envoy to Europe; the 
choice of the language best suited for medical science ; 
or how to act in matters of neutrality between 
France and Germany, whose war vessels were in 
Japanese waters; or to learn the truth about what 
some foreign diplomat had asserted; or concern- 
ing the persecutions of Christians; or some serious 
measure of home policy." 

Perhaps the two greatest services which he ren- 
dered were the translation of the Western law books, 
law codes and books on political economy and in- 

Guido Fridolin Verbeck 83 

ternational law, and the projection of the famous 
Iwakura embassy. This was a body of the most in- 
fluential men of the empire sent abroad to America 
and Europe. In America Joseph Hardy Neesima, 
then a student here, was attached to the embassy as 
an interpreter. Dr. Verbeck's share in planning this 
embassy was little known at the time, and his policy 
was always to conceal his influence. He wrote of 
this particular enterprise, however, to an old friend 
in America. "All this," he said, "I only write to you, 
and not to the public; for, as I said before, publish- 
ing such things would be directly contrary to my 
invariable principles of operation, would ruin my 
reputation, and make me lose the confidence of the 
people, which it has taken me twelve years to gain 
in a small degree. Besides, there is a tacit under- 
standing between Iwakura and myself that I shall 
leave the outward honor of initiating this embassy 
to themselves. And who cares for the mere name 
and honor, if they are sure to reap the benefits, 
toleration and its immense consequences, partly now, 
but surely after the return of this embassy? More- 
over, there is quite a band of foreign ministers and 
consuls who look with envy on me and my doings, 
and it would not be right nor expedient wantonly to 
stir up their ire. I prefer to work on quietly and 
at peace with all. Each man has his sphere of 
action; I like to keep within mine, without intruding 

84 Servants of the King 

myself on others. The name is nothing", the real 
results are all. Except to an old friend and a 
brother, like you, I would not have ventured to 
write the above, for fear of being misunderstood." 
This embassy accomplished all that Dr. Verbeck had 
hoped. The nation moved forward more rapidly 
and steadily than ever, and, best of all, the notice- 
boards against Christianity were taken down and 
the door for missionary work began to open widely. 

After starting the new school in Tokyo Dr. Ver- 
beck was for five years attached to the Senate. 
This was a body formed as a preparatory step to 
a national constitution and parliament, and Dr. 
Verbeck was adviser to it. By 1877 the new 
government was well-established and had a num- 
ber of foreign advisers, and Dr. Verbeck decided 
to withdraw from its service and give all his time 
again to direct missionary work. This he did in 
1877, and to show that Japan appreciated what he 
had been to her, the emperor bestowed upon him on 
his withdrawal the decoration of the third class of 
the Order of the Rising Sun. He later gave further 
service to the government, but his remaining years 
were spent directly in the work of missions. 

His great reputation, his favor with the govern- 
ment, his wonderful command of the Japanese lan- 
guage, which brought great crowds to hear him 
speak, and his unselfishness and lowliness of mind 


Guido Fridolin Verbeck 85 

made him one of the great Christian forces of the 
empire, and he went far and wide, preaching in thea- 
ters and halls and churches. He taught in one of 
the theological schools and aided in the translation 
of the Bible. 

All this time he had been a man without a coun- 
try. Leaving Holland as a minor he had lost his 
Dutch nationality, and he had not been naturalized 
in the United States, so that he had no American 
citizenship. In Japan there was no provision for 
the naturalization of foreigners, so that he could not 
be a Japanese. Yet Japan was his real country, and 
in 1 89 1 he applied to be made a citizen of Japan. 
After explaining his situation to the Minister of 
Foreign Affairs, he wrote: "If there existed in 
this empire laws for the naturalization of foreigners, 
I should under these circumstances gladly avail my- 
self of them. But in the absence of such laws, I take 
the great liberty to request of your excellency to be 
so very kind, if possible, to use such means as your 
excellency may deem proper and suitable to have me 
placed under the protection of the supreme govern- 
ment of this empire. I have but little to recommend 
myself to your excellency's favor, unless I be allowed 
to state, for the benefit of those who may perhaps 
not know it, that I have resided and labored in this 
empire for more than thirty years and spent one- 
half of this long period in the service of both the 

86 Servants of the King 

former and the present government of Japan." The 
Japanese Government granted him his request and 
took him and his family under its protection and 
gave him and them the right, which no other for- 
eigner then enjoyed, "to travel freely throughout the 
empire in the same manner as the subjects of the 
same, and to sojourn and reside in any locality." The 
Minister of Foreign Affairs, in sending him this 
statement, wrote: "You have resided in our em- 
pire for several tens of years, the ways in which you 
have exerted yourself for the benefit of our empire 
are by no means few, and you have been always be- 
loved and respected by our officials and people." 

Seven years later the life so influential and beloved 
came peacefully to an end in his home in Tokyo. 
The city government of Tokyo presented the family 
with the burial plot in which his body was laid, and 
the emperor himself paid the funeral expenses, and 
a representative from the emperor came to the 
funeral to carry the decoration which had been 
presented to the missionary and which was laid on 
a cushion and placed on the casket during the funeral 
services. Being a decorated man, a company of 
soldiers escorted the body two miles to the cemetery 
and afterward saluted the grave with presentation 
of arms and other ceremonies of honor. 

What the nation thought was expressed by the 

Guido Frldolin Verbeck 87 

Kokumm no Tomo (The Nation's Friend), one of 
the Japanese journals : 

"By the death of Dr. Verbeck the Japanese peo- 
ple have lost a benefactor, teacher, and friend. He 
was born in Holland, was educated in America, and 
taught in Japan. The present civilization of Japan 
owes much to his services. Of the distinguished 
statesmen and scholars of the present, many are those 
who studied under his guidance. That during his 
forty years' residence in this land he could witness 
the germ, the flower, and the fruit of his labor, must 
have been gratifying to him. It should be remem- 
bered by our people that this benefactor, teacher, 
and friend of Japan prayed for the welfare of this 
empire until he breathed his last." 

So the man without a nation helped to make a 



My life is lived so much among unlovely and unlovable 
people that I have learned to have great sympathy and great 
love for them. 

— Eleanor Chesnut 


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On the wall of one of the rooms of the Presby- 
terian Foreign Mission Board, in New York City, is 
a bronze memorial tablet bearing this inscription : 

In Loving Memory 

of the 


of Lien-chou, China, 






who, for Christ's sake, suffered cruel death at 

Lien-chou, China, October 28, 1905. 

"They loved not their lives unto the death." 

Rev. xii. 11. 

"They climbed the steep ascent of heaven 
Through peril, toil, and pain: 
O God, to us may grace be given 
To follow in their train." 

ELEANOR CHESNUT, whose name stands 
first on the tablet, was born at Waterloo, 
Iowa, on January 8, 1868. Her father was Irish, 


92 Servants of the King 

and her mother, whose maiden name was Cain, a 
Manx woman. The father disappeared about the 
time Eleanor was born and was never heard of 
again, and the mother, who had the sympathy and 
respect of the neighbors, died soon after, when 
Eleanor was three years old. Eleanor was adopted, 
but not legally, by friendly neighbors of scanty 
means, who had no children of their own and found 
the little girl both a comfort and a problem. Her 
adopted parents did for her what they could, and 
the father, looking back across the years, recalls 
"her loving, kindly ways, her obedience in the family 
circle, her studious habits, and her unselfish ways." 
But from the time she first understood her situation 
and loneliness and poverty, the child felt it keenly 
and was filled with inward resentment. However 
tractable she appeared outwardly, she afterward 
said, she was unhappy and lonely, hating control 
and longing for the sympathy of a mother's love. 
Her great happiness lay in her school life, but when 
she was twelve it seemed that she might have to 
give up school altogether. At that time she left 
Waterloo and went to her aunt's in Missouri. The 
home was a farm in an ignorant backwoods country 
community where school privileges were of the most 
primitive character, and the struggle for life in the 
home was too strenuous to leave anything for the 
expense of education. 

Eleanor Chesnut 93 

In her new home, however, she heard in a round- 
about way of Park College. The knowledge of the 
existence of such an institution, where she might 
work her way to an education, brought a gleam of 
hope into her despair. In characteristic fashion she 
wrote directly to the president of the college, tell- 
ing him her longings and difficulties, and he wrote 
to her to come to Parkville. She entered the 
academy and remained until she had completed the 
full college course, usually staying there summers 
as well as winters. Here she found an entirely new 
and congenial environment. She entered Park Col- 
lege a forlorn, unapproachable girl with many faults 
of many kinds; she found in Dr. McAfee a true 
friend, whose patience was inexhaustible and whose 
influence remained with her always. She also found 
many warm friends among the students, her sur- 
roundings were congenial, and she became as zeal- 
ously honest as she declared she had been before 

She was not strong physically, and in those early 
days of the college, teachers and students alike knew 
the strain of overwork and undernourishment. "I 
do not know," writes a friend, "how her personal 
expenses were met. Her eldest brother was now at 
work and occasionally sent her a little money, and 
Mrs. McAfee had clothes given her for needy 
students, from which store Eleanor was largely 

94 Servants of the King 

clothed, a charity which she never could receive in 
any spirit of gratitude, but which she accepted of 
necessity and with bitter resentment. All these ex- 
periences made her in after life full of understand- 
ing, gentleness, and tact for others who were poor 
and forlorn and proud." Outwardly she bore her- 
self bravely and quietly, but her heart was very 
lonely, and her life had not found yet the great inner 
secret which brought her later the beauty and peace 
of a consecrated soul. 

Before she left Park College she had yielded to 
the steady Christian influence of the college and be- 
come a member of the Church. She had also gone 
further and decided to become a missionary. As 
her reason for the decision she gave simply "desire 
to do good in what seems the most fitting sphere." 
She left Park College in the spring of 1888, and 
went to Chicago to study medicine. To one 
who offered to aid her, she wrote : "I have had 
developed in me a liking for medical study, al- 
though I did not seriously think of the matter 
until of late. It seemed to me such an utter 
impossibility to carry out the design, as I am with- 
out means and without friends to assist. But I do 
trust that I am by divine appointment fitted for this 
work. My age — twenty-one next January. Oh ! 
I just do long to do this work." The strong power 
of an unselfish purpose was beginning to work within 

Eleanor Chesnut 95 

her. In Chicago she entered the Woman's Medical 
College. "During the first year," writes the friend 
whom she came to know about this time and who 
became her one intimate friend and correspondent, 
"she lived in an attic, cooked her own meals, and 
almost starved. At the close of this first year of 
medical education, she decided to take a course in 
nursing as well, and that spring entered the Illinois 
Training School for Nurses in Chicago for the 
course, which was then two years. This was a new 
and trying experience. Eleanor always resented 
authority which hampered her own methods, also 
she was careless and inexact in her ways, and 
training-school discipline was a continual thorn in 
her flesh. She loved the poor and suffering pa- 
tients who were under her care, and was tender 
and untiring in her care, faithful to the last detail 
where essentials were concerned. After leaving the 
medical college, she spent a winter in the Woman's 
Reformatory in South Framingham, Mass., as as- 
sistant to the resident physician, a very useful and 
happy experience, and then took a short course in 
the Moody Bible Institute." 

In 1893 she sent in her formal application for 
missionary appointment, expressing a preference to 
be sent to Siam : "Am wiUing to be sent to what- 
ever location may be deemed fittest. But being 
asked if I had a preference, my thoughts turned to 

g6 Servants of the King 

Siam. It is a specially interesting field to me since 
I have always had throughout the country friends 
and correspondents. If their special need and my 
desire should coincide it would be for me a delightful 
circumstance. I do not, however, set my heart 
on any one place, but rather pray that wherever it 
may be it will be the appointed one, that what 
powers I possess may be used to the best advantage." 
She had prepared herself carefully for the work. 
She had made her own way through college, medical 
school, and nurses' training-school, while she worked 
as a nurse in summer vacations, having nursed Dr. 
Oliver Wendell Holmes in his last illness. She had 
also taken hospital training, including a good deal 
of pharmaceutical work, and she had sought to make 
up for what she regarded as her shortcomings in 
the knowledge of the Bible and spiritual experience 
by going to the Bible Institute. Those who knew 
her believed that she was well fitted for the work. 
She was appointed without hesitation as a medi- 
cal missionary on August 7, 1893, was assigned to 
South China, and sailed in the fall of 1894 on the 
steamship Oceanic from San Francisco for Hong- 
kong. There was quite a party of missionaries on 
board. The fifth day out she wrote : 'T fear there 
were very few dry eyes as we caught the last glimpse 
of her [the tug which had accompanied them out 
of the bay] and heard the last strains of Auld Lang 

Eleanor Chesnut 97 

Syne. I am glad to say that thus far I have shed 
no tears. It would have been easy enough, but I 
know there will be enough to weep over in the 
future." At the end of the journey she wrote: "I 
did hate to say good-by to the Oceanic. The officers 
were all so kind that I shall regard them as old 
friends." As soon as possible after reaching Canton 
she went on inland to her own station at Sam-kong, 
a town at the head of the waterways in the north- 
west corner of the province of Kuang-tung near the 
border of Hu-nan. The mission station consisted 
at the time of one family, one self-supporting single 
woman and one single man. There were a girls' 
boarding-school, three churches at Sam-kong, Lien- 
chou, and Lam-mo, and wards for the medical care 
of women and men, though these were very inade- 
quate. Dr. Chesnut began at once upon arrival the 
study of Northern Mandarin. Later she tried to 
acquire also some use of local dialects, almost in- 
dispensable for reaching women who know nothing 
but their own village dialect. 

She began her work in her own way, drawing on 
the inner resources, and not making herself a de- 
pendent upon others. "Every morning," she wrote 
to her friend at home, "I have a choice little time 
all to my lonesome. First I read the new quotation 
on the calendar, then the thought for the day in 
'Daily Strength for Daily Needs' and finally play 

98 Servants of the King 

and sing a hymn. I enjoy my faltering attempts 
at piusic very much. I can speak the language of 
my soul quite as effectively in a simple melody as 
some one else might in a grand sonata. The 
Thwings have two baby organs and so have loaned 
me one to have in my room. It is a good com- 
panion. Whenever I get restless over Chinese 
hieroglyphics or a trifle dull I play one of the few 
only tunes I know. Thus far, I am thankful to say, 
I have been visited but little by the dread demon of 
homesickness. There was a time of all-goneness 
which lasted a week or two and helped to reduce my 
avoirdupois. But, thank fortune, it is past. I pray 
that it may not return." 

A little hospital for women was prepared. Of 
this she wrote : "The little hospital is nearly 
finished. 1 look out upon it with admiring eyes 
and fancy myself within it administering 'yarbs' 
and 'essences' at a great rate. I have at present 
a young girl in my charge sick with a low fever. 
How I should like to remove her from her dark 
room to the hospital and look after her myself. 
Am afraid she will not recover, though I do hope 
for her sake and for the work's sake she will. 
Every patient that I lose counts so much against 
the work here. I really do labor at a disadvan- 
tage. Being able to talk so little, I do not get as 
clear a history as I might at home. Another 

Eleanor Chesnut 99 

obstacle is the scarcity of drugs. When I want one 
it never seems to be in the dispensary ; and when it 
is, sometimes I can't find it because many of the 
bottles are labeled in Chinese. The horrid tin cans 
instead of bottles! Oh! lots of things one never 
would dream of. But I don't care for any of these 
trifles if only I am well and make a success of what 
I have begun." 

She had reached China about the time of the anti- 
foreign disturbances in the Yang-tzu Valley foment- 
ed by Chou-han and his propaganda in Hu-nan. 
She refers to these conditions in one of her letters : 
"The missionaries here are all well and the city is 
peaceful. The interior seems pretty well disturbed. 
I do hope you won't be frightened by newspaper 
accounts. I don't think we are in any danger, and 
if we are, we might as well die suddenly in God's 
work as by some long-drawn-out illness at home. 
Miss Johnston writes that the Sam-kongites are 
usually friendly. I think there is still much hope 
for China in spite of such expressions as 'an un- 
claimable lot of heathen savages.' But I am sure 
that it is our duty as a Christian nation to enlighten 
the Chinese, and I think very few persons at home 
realize what idolatry is — how full of cruel super- 
stition Chma is. They spend their whole existence 
in fear of some devil or other, and die with it still 
upon them. I feel especially sorry for the women. 

100 Servants of the King 

The majority don't know anything aside from comb- 
ing their hair, doing a few household duties, bearing 
children, and afterward hanging them upon their 
backs till they are five or six years of age. They are 
not expected to be intelligent, and do not expect it 
themselves. Their lives seem so barren — their tasks 
no higher than those of a beast of burden — vexed 
with human passions and endowed with no power to 
control them." 

Within a year after reaching Sam-kong, Dr. Ches- 
nut had an opportunity to go down on a visit to 
Canton, and while there she studied the extensive 
medical work of the mission hospital and also seized 
every chance of rendering service to those in need. 

In the spring of 1898 Dr. Chesnut removed to 
Lien-chou, a more favorable location than Sam-kong, 
the station having purchased a good site on the 
river bank opposite the city, "Here I am at last," 
she wrote, "in the much-looked-forward-to Lien- 
chou. Monday I had a few of the most important 
things carried overland. I hear that the boats are 
on their way. They have divided their cargo with 
several others and are floating the hospital bed 
boards and my springs. Won't they be rusty! I 
only hope they won't try to float the books and the 
organ. I don't mind being here alone at all." She 
was living alone at this time at Lien-chou, the five 
other members of the station still residing at Sam- 

Eleanor Chesnut loi 

kong. She was in the men's hospital, the women's 
hospital having not yet been built. In the absence 
of Dr. Machle, who was in charge of the men's 
hospital, she was conducting all the work. In her 
letter she writes : 

"How many people do you suppose are tempo- 
rarily in my charge? Two day-school teachers, the 
hospital preacher, janitor, scribe, doctor, watchman, 
woman who helps in Sam-kong dispensary, the 
woman who helps in this dispensary, and the Bible- 
woman. I have to be after some one continually, 
but I do hate to get after people. I am conscious 
of so many failings on my own part that I don't 
feel equal to attending to those of others. 

"I have to perform all my operations now in 
my bathroom, which was as small as the law al- 
lowed before. Now with an operating table it 
is decidedly full. I do not mind those incon- 
veniences at all, however. I wish I could look for- 
ward to as good accommodations for the work next 

"I really cannot find time to write much these 
days. There are thirty in-patients in the hospital, 
most of them fever cases. If they were all of the 
common class they would serve to keep one person 
busy, but the fact of belonging partly to the official 
class accentuates matters. The Lien-shan official, 
his wife, his cousin, one child, and a whole retinue 

102 Servants of the King 

of servants are in the hospital, and the wife and 
child of a smaller official. To-night I have a case 
of dementia on hand, a Lien-chou official who has 
ruined himself with opium. He is only thirty-five 
years of age and has an excellent mind. He came 
to me this evening to implore protection. He thinks 
he is continually pursued by demons. I had no 
place for him but my study. He is sometimes vio- 
lent and has to be carefully watched. So I am sit- 
ting here on guard now. I do hope he will recover, 
but you have seen enough of these opium cases in 
the hospital to know what they are like. My patient 
is now seated at the table reading, but I can see that 
he is decidedly fidgety. He is a fine, tall man with 
a clear complexion and fine white teeth. He seems 
to have a good mind, and it is a pity that he is in 
this condition. I often think what a different idea 
you would have of the Chinese if you could see 
some of these handsome, well-dressed gentlemen. 
They are so polite that one minute I am filled with 
awe and the next overcome by the ludicrousness of 
some child-like freak. There is the making of a 
great nation in China. 

"One of my patients, a wealthy man, the one 
whose wife I mentioned before, has had a tablet 
made for me like the one the Lien-shan official and 
his cousin presented me with. The tablet is to be 
sent in the morning and I am going to the feast in 

Eleanor Chesnut 103 

the evening. I dread the thought of it. I am so 
tired. I wish I could sleep a whole day. I shall 
soon be rested, however. . . . The other night 
the druggist gave me a prescription which you may 
find useful, though the ingredients are more diffi- 
cult to procure in America than in China. You 
must catch some little rats whose eyes are not yet 
open, pound them to a jelly, and add lime and 
peanut oil. Warranted to cure any kind of an ulcer." 

How many surgeons would like to amputate a 
leg without any skilled helper? Of course, it is 
done, but it is not customary. 

During the time above mentioned Mr. Lingle 
occasionally returned to the station from his almost 
constant itineration. He came to Lien-chou just 
when Dr. Chesnut was about to perform such an 
operation. I believe he held the leg, but Dr. Ches- 
nut did the cutting and sewing, 

"The operation was very successful," wrote one 
of her associates. The man not only did not die on 
the table, but, better still, he recovered strength. 
Several times I saw him going about on crutches 
with a bright smile and good color. But Dr. 
Chesnut was not satisfied with the results. The 
flaps of skin which were to fold over and cover 
the stump did not fully unite. She said little 
about it, but one day, when she was at my place, 
I observed that she walked with an appearance 

104 Servants of the King 

of pain. I asked if she had met with an accident, 
but she said, 'Oh, it's nothing.' Knowing her tem- 
perament, I forbore further questioning, but in a few 
days took occasion to walk over to Lien-chou, and 
while there made some inquiries of our good women 
at the hospital. 'Yes,' said one, nodding her head. 
'I should think she couldn't walk well after cutting 
off so much skin from her leg to put on that boy's 
leg.' She was determined, at any cost, to make it 
a success. This was just like Dr. Chesnut. To 
have spoken further to her about it would have been 
to let her know that I knew that the flaps had not 
united. Silent appreciation of her sacrifice was 

She did not shrink from being alone. She had 
written some years before of preferring it, but she 
felt the loneliness none the less, and the burden of 
responsibility was very heavy for her. In due time 
new missionaries came to take the place of several 
who had stayed on the field but a brief time, and 
older missionaries returned from furlough. The 
Board did its best to keep the force full. Mean- 
while she went on unflinchingly with her work far 
away in the interior alone. 

In 1900 the money was provided for a woman's 
hospital. She had begun the building in faith with 
^300 Mexican before she knew that the appropria- 
tion had been made by the Board. 

Eleanor Chesnut 105 

The Boxer troubles in the north had sent for- 
eigners in all parts of China down to the coast, but 
for months Dr. Chesnut declined to go. In August, 
however, the pressure from Canton became so great 
that she consented to go down, though she was 
without fear. In the spring, when the storm was 
over, she returned. The political conditions were 
full of perils, however, and the perils did not de- 
crease, and little was needed to touch off a confla- 
gration, as later events showed. The station had 
always kept free from political entanglements, and 
that was one great safeguard. But great care was 

In the spring of 1902 she came home on fur- 
lough. She returned by way of Europe. Her 
time at home was spent visiting, doing postgraduate 
work in medicine, making missionary addresses, and 
raising over a thousand dollars gold to supplement a 
good sum raised on the field for a chapel at Lien- 
chou. She declined a proposal that came to her to 
go to Hu-nan to take charge of the woman's hos- 
pital medical work in that new mission. "I con- 
cluded," she wrote, "that it would be a mistake for 
me to leave Lien-chou. I am acquainted with the 
people there, their dialect, diseases, faults, virtues, 
and other points. Then I am so fond of them. 
I do not believe I could ever have quite the same 
feeling of affection for any other people. All my 

io6 Servants of the King 

early associations in missionary life are connected 
with them. Moreover, Lien-chou has been so un- 
fortunate in the matter of losing its missionaries 
that I fear it would be very discouraging to those 
at the station. The work is increasing every year. 
Before I left in the spring there was work enough 
for twenty missionaries instead of five." 

In the fall of 1903 she returned to Lien-chou. 
Her work was never conceived by her in a narrow 
sense, however, and her first letter to the Board after 
her return was a clear and convincing appeal for 
a building for the boys' boarding-school, from which 
they were obliged to turn away boys because the old 
house which was in use was too small. Her second 
letter was an expression of her hope that another 
doctor might be sent to take her place so that she 
could go to Ham-kuang, an important town on the 
river south of Lien-chou, near the abandoned mission 
station of Kang-hau. 

But she did not go to Ham-kuang. Her next 
journey was to another city, the city "whose builder 
and maker is God," and the day of her departure 
was near. She had some intimation that trouble 
might be coming. The talk of the streets as she 
passed by was intelligible to her, and she knew that 
the general condition of the country was very in- 

The new missionaries whom she had been for 

Eleanor Chesnut 107 

some time expecting, Mr. and Mrs. Peak and Dr. 
and Mrs. Machle, who had been at Canton at the 
mission meeting, arrived at the station on the eve- 
ning of October 29th, 1905. It was near the close 
of the Chinese celebration of Ta Tsin, or All Souls' 
Day, which they were observing with the usual 
idolatrous ceremonies. A mat shed connected with 
the celebration had been erected on mission prop- 
erty. The same thing had been done the year be- 
fore, and when Dr. Machle spoke about it to the 
elders of the village in which the mission property 
lay, they agreed that it was improper and would 
not be done again. When Dr. Machle went to the 
hospital on the morning of October 28th the shed 
had been erected on mission property again. He 
picked up accordingly three of six small cannon 
which were being fired off and carried them to the 
men's hospital, less than a hundred yards away. It 
was a customary Chinese way of indicating that he 
wished to confer with the elders. They came to 
see him accordingly and matters were arranged 
satisfactorily, and the cannon were returned. As 
the elders went away a mob came from the opposite 
direction, armed with a sword, a revolver, and sticks. 
The old man carrying the cannon came back and 
told the mob that everything was satisfactorily set- 
tled, but the rabble had already determined upon 
trouble, had indeed probably been waiting for an 

io8 Servants of the King 

opportunity for it, and attacked the hospital. Dr. 
Chesnut had come on the scene during the discus- 
sion, and on seeing the turn of affairs, instead of 
going into the hospital, hurried off, pursued by part 
of the mob, to report the matter to the Chinese au- 
thorities. She reached the police boat on the river 
and might have escaped in safety, but seeing the 
peril of the others, returned to Dr. Machle's resi- 
dence, where all the other missionaries, save Dr. 
Machle, were assembled — Mrs. Machle, Miss Pat- 
terson, Mr. and Mrs. Peale and Amy Machle, a little 
girl of eleven. The mob increased. The Chinese 
officials who came were unable to do anything to 
restrain them, and Dr. Machle joined the other 
missionaries and all fled by a back door. A ferry- 
man refused to carry them across the river to Lien- 
chou, and they started toward Sam-kong. The mob 
pursued them so closely, however, that they sought 
refuge in a Buddhist temple about a mile away, 
where they hid in a cave opening into the rocks back 
of the temple. Here all were caught except Dr. 
Machle and Miss Patterson, who were separated 
from the others and in deeper recesses of the cave. 
Mrs. Machle reasoned calmly with the mob until 
a blow from behind ended her life. The little girl 
was flung into the river and stabbed and drowned. 
Mr. and Mrs. Peale, less than forty-eight hours 
at the station, were slain together. Dr. Chesnut 

Eleanor Chesnut 109 

was killed first. A Chinese eye-witness told of her 
death : 

"I arrived at the temple shortly before noon, just 
in time to see the mob bringing Dr. Chesnut down 
the temple steps to the foot of a large tree, and she 
sat down on a mound at the side. Some young 
fellows then went up to her and hit her with a piece 
of wood. It was not a hard blow. Four ruffians 
then rushed upon her and dragged her from the 
tree, and getting behind her pushed her down the 
steep bank leading to the river and threw her into 
the water, where she lay as though asleep. Then 
one of the men jumped into the river and stabbed 
her with a trident three times — once in the neck, 
once in the breast, and once in the lower part of 
the abdomen. Other men jumped into the water. 
She was then to all appearance dead. About ten 
minutes afterward they brought the body ashore." 

The last service she rendered the Chinese was 
under this tree, when she noticed a boy in the crowd 
- who had an ugly gash in his head. Dr. Chesnut 
called him to her, tore off a portion of her dress and 
bound up the wound. It was her last patient. The 
lad came afterward to the missionaries and showed 
them the healed wound. Other Chinese boys felt 
" the shame and disgrace of the massacre, and one 
of them wrote this letter: 

no Servants of the King 

"Canton Christian College, 
"Canton, China, 
"November 20, 1905. 
"To the Family and Relatives of Dr. Eleanor Chesnut : 

"We are sadly shocked and deeply chagrined to hear of the 
hideous massacre at Lien-chou. It is indeed a surprise to us. 
After she and the other missionaries up there have done so 
much for the benefit of our people, instead of appreciating and 
feeling grateful for the many kindnesses received, they repaid 
them in such a cruel and brutal way. This is a shame to our 
people, a shame to our race ! It is a sad and melancholy spec- 
tacle to see our people become so degraded and debased men- 
tally; for there is no excuse whatever for their savagery and 
brutality. When we think of this our hearts break. 

"We can imagine your distress and despair at the loss of 
your loved ones. Believe us, you have our warmest sympathy 
and prayers for God's blessing upon you all. Your loved one 
has but gone up to her eternal home to be with the Savior. 
She is at peace after a life of labor and toil, enjoying her 
reward. And who knows btit that her 'faith unto death' influ- 
ence may be more to the lives of the people at Lien-chou here- 
after than it has ever been before? 

"Accept our deepest sympathy and heartfelt apology. 
"With the utmost respect we are very sincerely, 

"Students of Canton Christian College." 

It was clear, however, that her work was done, her 
hfe finished, and she was made ready for the higher 
service of the hfe everlasting. All the hardness of 
the early years was gone, and she was perfected in 
love at last. The peculiarity and desolation of her 
girlhood had been transformed into sympathy with 
all who were in need and complete and Christlike 
ministry to all suffering. "As a college girl," wrote 
one of her classmates, "she was somewhat odd and 
eccentric, but to those who really knew her she was 
generous, kind-hearted, genuine, and especially true 
to her friends. She was mentally one of the brightest 

Eleanor Chesnut ill 

girls in the class of '88. As a medical student her 
eccentricities decreased and her life grew and un- 
folded until, when she went to China, she went 
thoroughly trained and fitted for a service of the 
finest quahty. One little incident seems to me to 
give the key to her whole life as a missionary in 
China. She heard us talking in our home of a 
very unlovely old woman who was dependent on the 
church and who made herself so disagreeable that 
it was sometimes hard to find money for her sup- 
port. In the evening she came to Dr. McAfee and 
said : 'I want to give you this money for that un- 
lovely old woman whom nobody loves. My life is 
lived so much among unlovely and unlovable people 
that I have learned to have great sympathy and great 
love for them.' 'Not to be ministered unto, but to 
minister,' was the key-note of the life of her Master, 
and she, too, had learned not only to minister with 
no thought of return, but to love to do so, which is 
a far greater thing." 

"The terrible news from China brought by our 
daily papers last week has indeed been sadly veri- 
fied," wrote another. "It came with especial sad- 
ness to us, because of our opportunity two years ago 
to renew with Dr. Chesnut our friendship of col- 
lege days in a week's visit she made us on her re- 
turn journey to China. We shall always be thank- 
ful for that opportunity to know the strength and 

112 Servants of the King 

beauty of her character as developed in those lonely 
years of devoted service in China. So unassuming 
and modest were the accounts she gave of her life 
there, that not till she had gone did we realize the 
self-sacrifice and heroism underlying those years. 
How lonely her first years in China were I suppose 
we at home can never know. But in them she grew 
sweet and strong and wonderfully sympathetic and 
Christlike. To know her was a call to higher living, 
to nobler serving. She has gone home, but who can 
doubt that her life will blossom and bear fruit in the 
lives of many of those Chinese women to whom in 
Christ's name she gave 'all she had' — no mean 

All this perfected character was not lost when Dr. 
Chesnut went. It was simply transferred to its own 
higher and nobler sphere. She had come thus to 
trust God. So also may we. On the day of her 
death a letter was received from her, in the Board 
rooms, in which she had quoted these lines: 

"Being in doubt, I say, 
Lord, make it plain ! 

Which is the true, safe way? 
Which would be in vain? 

"I am not wise to know, 
Not sure of foot to go, 
My blind eyes cannot see 
What is so clear to thee; 
Lord, make it clear to me. 

Eleanor Chesnut 113 

"Being perplexed, I say, 
Lord, make it right! 
Night is as day to thee. 
Darkness as light. 

"I am afraid to touch 
Things that involve so much; 
My trembling hand may shake, 
My skilless hand may break— 
Thine can make no mistake." 



So much work, and I can't do any of it. . . . God needs 
men. — Mattliew Tyson Yates 



ABOUT seventy-five years ago a group of boys 
were playing about a great white oak tree 
near an "old-field school" in North Carolina. An 
"old-field school" in those days was a country school 
held in a schoolhouse usually situated in an old 
field. This group of boys had come out for recess 
and were having a lively game under the spreading 
limbs of an old tree. The boys were using the ends 
of its great limbs, which reached almost down to 
the ground, for bases. In the midst of the game one 
of them gave a challenge to get off base, and all 
the fifteen or twenty boys responded and ran out 
from ten to twenty feet from the tree. The sky was 
overcast, but there had been neither rain nor thunder. 
Just on the moment the boys were safely away from 
the tree, however, it was struck twice by lightning 
in two consecutive seconds and shivered into pieces. 
No one was killed, but the boys were hurled to the 
ground, and each boy had on his body for hours a 


ii8 Servants of the King 

deep red spot as large as a dollar, caused by the 

On one of the boys, then twelve years old, the 
incident so sudden and unexpected made a deep im- 
pression. He realized in a new way the power and 
presence of God, and felt that he must go off and 
pray. "The next morning," said he, "when I went 
into a dense forest to find a certain lot of pigs — the 
daily care of which had been committed to me — I 
sought and found, in a thick brush, a large oak that 
was much inclined toward the south, where I would 
be protected from the rain and snow in winter. 
There I erected my altar of prayer, and there, for 
years, I prayed, *God be merciful to me a sinner.' 
At night, I found a place of prayer nearer home, 
where I was able to pray unobserved." 

This boy was Matthew Tyson Yates, the pioneer 
missionary of the Southern Baptist Convention, who 
was to spend forty-three years as a missionary in 
Shanghai, China. He was born on January 8, 
1 8 19. His father was a North Carolina farmer, who 
delighted in keeping an open home for preachers of 
all denominations. It was one of these preachers. 
Father Purefoy, who taught the boy the prayer he 
prayed in the woods. On one of his visits he put 
his hand on the boy's head, saying, "May the Lord 
make a preacher of him." "This blessing," said Dr. 
Yates years afterward, "made an impression upon 

Matthew Tyson Yates 119 

my young heart, for his manner was kind and his 
tone of voice serious." 

In 1836, at the camp-meeting at Mount Pisgah 
Church, the boy openly confessed the Savior before 
men and was baptized. On his way home sore temp- 
tation befell him. The evil one told him that he had 
been very foolish and had spoiled his life. The lad 
turned aside to meet his adversary by prayer, throw- 
ing himself down by the side of a fallen tree. 
"When I had been praying I know not how long," 
he said, "I heard a great noise in the leaves on the 
other side of the fallen tree, like some one approach- 
ing me. It became so demonstrative that I raised 
myself to see what it was. And lo, there was a 
kingsnake, not more than two and a half feet long, 
in deadly conflict with a very large black serpent not 
less than six feet long. The noise was caused by 
the struggle of the blacksnake to prevent himself 
being doubled by his assailant into the form of a 
rude ball. The striped little kingsnake was entwined 
in and out of this ball, and in this position, by 
alternate contractions, he crushed the bones of his 
apparently more powerful enemy, and then extricated 
himself and crawled quietly away, leaving the black- 
snake dead. I felt that it was good to be there; 
so I again resumed my supplication and thanksgiv- 
ing, and then went on my way comforted and rejoic- 
ing, feeling that this incident taught me that the Lion 

120 Servants of the King 

of the tribe of Judah, Jesus, was able to conquer 
even the old serpent himself. And in many a con- 
flict since, I have evidence of his presence to protect, 
comfort, and direct me in the way I should go. That 
day and night I rested in Jesus. In meditating upon 
what I had done, and upon the incident of the day, 
and realizing that Jesus on the cross had vanquished 
Satan, I had great joy. Henceforth the burden of 
my prayer at the old oak tree and elsewhere was, 
'Lord, what wilt thou have me to do? Show me 
my duty, and grant me grace and courage to do it.' " 

He made a beginning in Christian work by get- 
ting up a prayer-meeting with two other boys. The 
old people came and the three boys were so 
frightened that they made sorry work of the meet- 
ing, but it was a beginning from which Matthew did 
not turn back. 

When he was nineteen he started off to the 
academy and college at Wake Forest, North Caro- 
lina. He had a conviction that he was not to be 
a farmer and asked his father to help him to an 
education. "He regretted extremely his inability 
to send all his children abroad to a good school," 
says Yates, "and said that for him to attempt to 
send me would be making an invidious distinc- 
tion. I then told him that when I became a free 
man I intended to go to school if I had to make 
brick by moonlight to pay my way, and asked him 

Matthew Tyson Yates 121 

if he would allow me liberty to go to school on my 
own responsibility when I was nineteen, the age 
at which my oldest brother had married. To this 
he assented and promised to assist me some. 
With desire I looked forward to the next year, 
when I hoped, with the proceeds of my horse, 
saddle, and bridle, to commence preparation for new 
work. I felt that God had something for me to do 
in the world, and that my first duty was to prepare 
myself for it. As I was a full-grown man and had 
not the means to accomplish what I had set before 
me, the prospect seemed dark indeed. But I resolved 
that, with the blessing of God, I would make a way 
— that no obstacle that could be overcome by human 
effort should be regarded as insurmountable. This 
decision, made upon my knees, gave me courage and 
afforded some relief. Thenceforth the object which 
I had set before me was the center around which 
all my thoughts, prayers, plans, and hopes revolved." 
He made his way, in part by teaching vocal music, 
for he had a remarkable voice ; in part by commend- 
ing himself to the Church as a man of promise well 
deserving its assistance, and in part, we may be sure, 
by prayer. In college as at home he had his secret 
place for meeting God. He prayed in his room fear- 
lessly, but as other boarders shared his room he says, 
"I found it necessary to resort to the woods again 
for an altar of prayer." 

122 Servants of the King 

At Wake Forest he decided quietly, after long 
debate of conscience, that it was his duty to become 
a minister, and this led on at once with him to the 
purpose to be a foreign missionary. Indeed, he 
had long thought of the work on the foreign field. 
As a boy he had read the memoirs of Mrs, Judson, 
and as he followed the plow or worked with his 
trowel he wept, he says, for hours at the thought 
of the world without Christ its Savior. His health 
hindered him for a time, but not long, as he had a 
powerful physique, and was resolutely determined 
that he must go. He wrote to the secretary of the 
Foreign Mission Board in Richmond, Virginia : "I 
have, with prayerful meditation, looked over the 
globe, and there is no field which seems to me so in- 
viting as China. I am now resolved, and I hope that 
I have been guided by the Holy Spirit, that, let 
others say what they may about rushing into danger, 
I will go wheresoever God in his providence may 
direct me. Since coming to this irrevocable conclu- 
sion my feelings and affections seem to have winged 
their way to China. This enterprise has swallowed 
up every other." 

On August 3, 1846, he was appointed, the first 
foreign missionary to go out from the State of North 
Carolina, He was married on September 27, and 
on April 26, 1847, he and Mrs. Yates sailed from 
Boston for Hongkong on a sailing vessel and 

Matthew Tyson Yates 123 

reached Shanghai, only four years before opened 
to foreigners, on September 12. He knew no one 
in the city. There was no foreign hotel or boarding- 
house. He had a letter to the Austrian consul, but 
his home was full of shipwrecked sailors. The con- 
sul sent him to Bishop Boone of the Protestant Epis- 
copal Church. The bishop's house, too, was full, but 
Mr. and Mrs. Yates joyfully slept on the parlor floor. 
With the assistance of one of the bishop's mission- 
aries a large pawnbroker's establishment, which the 
Chinese regarded as haunted and would not rent, 
was secured. "All the partitions above stairs," says 
Dr. Yates, "had been removed, leaving a large barn- 
like hall. Here were abundant signs of the spirits 
or ghosts of which we had been duly warned — rats. 
Into one side of this dirty place we moved ourselves, 
with sundry boxes and trunks containing our world- 
ly goods. This was a time to hear words of com- 
plaint from a wife, if she had not counted the cost 
or fully made up her mind to share my fortune. But 
from that day to the present no such word has ever 
been known to pass her lips. All honor to a brave 
woman! I had come provided with a box of car- 
penter's tools. Bedstead, cooking-stove, crockery, 
and other articles were soon unpacked, so far as to 
provide for immediate necessities. And, with the 
boards and nails of packing-cases, my own hands 

124 Servants of the King 

extemporized a partition higher than a man's head, 
and so made a private room." 

A servant was secured, but he knew no English, 
and the new missionaries knew no Chinese. "How- 
ever, we had learned one sentence of the spoken 
language: Te-ko-kiaw-sa? {'What is this called F') 
Thus supplied with a house, a cook, a ham, a 
few vegetables (we had also a few biscuits with 
us), and one sentence of the spoken language, we 
commenced life in Shanghai. Moreover, our com- 
bined knowledge of practical housekeeping soon 
demonstrated that we had imported an ignorance 
that was equivalent to paralysis. We could not 
give the cook directions about our first meal, nor 
could we cook a bowl of rice ourselves. A dilemma ! 
But something had to be done. Hard work at 
opening cases and unpacking reminded us that it 
was dinner-time. The cook stood before us, grin- 
ning as he waited for orders. What should I do? 
I believed that I could fry a slice of ham and 
scramble a few eggs. So, armed with the one 
sentence, 'What is this called?' and Mrs. Yates 
with blank book and pencil for taking notes, down 
the ladder we crawled to the improvised kitchen, 
followed by the cook, who for the time was 
our teacher. I pointed at the cooking-stove, and 
said, Te-ko-kiaw-sa f (What is this called?) An- 
swer, Tih-tsaw. 'Write that down.' Seizing a bit 

Matthew Tyson Yates 125 

of wood, I said, Te-ko-kiaw-sa? Answer,, Sza. 
I struck a match, and pointing at the fire, said, Te- 
ko-kiaw-sa f Answer, Who. I made a fire in the 
stove: Te-ko-kiaw-sa? Answer, Sang-who. In like 
manner I took the carving-knife, the ham, cut the 
ham, took up a frying-pan, cleaned it, fried the 
ham, took some eggs, scrambled them, put them in 
a dish, asking about everything and every act, Te- 
ko-kiaw-sa? and Mrs. Yates writing down the 

"We then crawled up the ladder to our great hall, 
feeling that we had accomplished something. Taking 
a cloth, the lining of a box, to spread on a packing- 
case (for we had no table), I said, Te-ko-kiaw-sa f 
Answer, Tsz-tare. Then, placing on it all the furni- 
ture necessary for our simple repast, and asking the 
name of each article, I said, Te-ko-kiaw-sa? An- 
swer, Batay-tsz (set the table). We partook of 
ham and eggs with relish, asking no questions till 
we had finished. Then I said, Te-ko-kiaw-sa? 
Answer, Ch'uh-van (eat rice). 

"Thus we prepared and ate our first meal in our 
own hired house. The character of our conversa- 
tion, while we ate, I leave you to imagine; for the 
way before us was dark. 

"With the aid of an English-Chinese dictionary 
we were able to find the words for fish, fowl, mutton, 
also for some vegetables, and for buy. By pointing 

126 Servants of the King 

to these words in the dictionary we managed in our 
orders to substitute one or other of these articles 
for ham, and so varied our diet a little." 

So they began. With a teacher who knew nothing 
about instructing a foreigner how to talk they com- 
menced the study of the language. How different 
it all is now. Yates said, years afterward : *'A mis- 
sionary arriving in Shanghai hereafter can never 
know the luxury of roughing it or of digging for 
the language. In most instances, a missionary friend 
will know about the hour he is to arrive and meet 
him at the steamboat wharf and conduct him to his 
comfortable home. If he is a stranger, three runners 
from good hotels will, as soon as the steamer is made 
fast, present their cards and offer their services : 
'Carriage at the wharf, sir; go right up.' And when 
he is rested and ready to commence the study of the 
language, he will find in English and Chinese First 
Lessons in Chinese, grammars, and a great variety 
of books, including the Scriptures and many religious 
tracts in the Shanghai dialect, both in the Roman 
and Chinese characters. With these, and a will to 
fit himself for work, he ought to learn the spoken 
language in a much shorter time than we, who came 
earlier, were able to do." 

Yates learned the language quickly and accurately. 
Trouble with his eyesight prevented the study from 
books which he would have liked to do, but it com- 

Matthew Tyson Yates 127 

pelled him to mingle with the people, where his 
quick ear enabled him to acquire a richness of vo- 
cabulary and an accuracy of tone which made him 
one of the best speakers of Chinese in Shanghai. 
If he spoke where he was unseen the Chinese could 
not tell that it was a foreigner. 

There was great fear and dislike of foreigners at 
that time, and the people were prejudiced against 
the new teachers. But Mr. Yates soon had a large 
hall for preaching services, and here great com- 
panies assembled to hear the foreigner. When 
interruptions came, the missionary was a match 
for them. "I remember," says he, "preaching on 
one occasion to a full house when my skill was 
put to test. During my sermon I touched upon 
the teachings of Confucius. Thereupon a literary 
man rose to his feet, about the center of the 
church, and began to speak. In order to counter- 
act the effect of the point I had made against 
his cherished system, he commenced repeating, from 
memory, portions of the Confucius classics in the 
book style. This could not be understood by any 
one who had not committed to memory those por- 
tions of the classics. When he took his seat, all 
eyes were turned upon me, for I had remained silent 
while he was talking. I felt that it was necessary 
for me to meet this unexpected sally, or that what 
I had gained would be lost. I had not been out of 

128 Servants of the King 

college so long that I could not repeat some of the 
speeches which I had declaimed when a freshman. 
So I commenced, in English, with the familiar ex- 
tract from Wirt's celebrated speech, 'Who is Blen- 
nerhassett?' After declaiming for a few minutes 
in the most approved style, I stopped and gazed at 
my man. All eyes were at once turned upon him, 
as much as to say, 'What have you to say to thatf 
After a moment's silence, he said, 'Who can under- 
stand foreign talk?' I replied, 'Who can under- 
stand Wenli (book-style) ? If you have anything to 
say let us have it in the spoken language, so that all 
can understand and be profited.' 'Yes,' said many 
voices, 'speak so that we can all understand.' He 
then attempted an argument, but it happened to be 
a point on which I was well posted. At a single 
stroke of my sledge-hammer he succumbed before 
the whole audience." 

As soon as possible Yates pressed out from Shang- 
hai into the country. He was a great curiosity to 
the people who had never seen a foreigner. A 
large amount of this curiosity had to be gratified be- 
fore he found it possible to get access to their minds. 
This was the first missionary work that had to be 
done, and is, even now, in a strange locality. It was 
only after giving a sort of exhibition of himself 
several times at a place that he had a chance to 
preach to an attentive audience. Even then it was 

Matthew Tyson Yates 129 

necessary to request two or three persons to keep 
barking dogs away. It is a depressing thouglit that 
it takes a long time, in a strange locaHty, for Chinese 
to hear what a foreigner is saying. They may under- 
stand each word that he utters, but, not apprehending 
what is the subject that he is talking about and their 
minds not being accustomed to thinking, they do 
not leave old ruts very easily. 

This country work was soon interrupted, for from 
1853 to 1856 Shanghai was beset by rebels. The 
T'ai-p'ing Rebellion was in progress, but the dis- 
turbance at Shanghai was purely local and not con- 
nected with the T'ai-p'ing insurrection. Yates' 
house was in the native city and in a position of 
danger. For sixteen months Mr. Yates occupied it 
alone, though shot often crashed through the win- 
dows or against the wall at the foot of his bed. 
At last the government purchased the house to use 
as a base of operation against the rebels, and he 
moved out. 

When the rebellion was over his health became 
so much impaired that the doctor ordered him to 
leave for a year. The ship on which he and his 
family sailed was so nearly wrecked that they were 
picked up by a Siamese ship and taken back to 
Shanghai, whence, on November 17, 1857, they 
started again for New York City. On the voyage 
their supplies gave out and they were reduced to 

130 Servants of the King 

dried apples. At last, after reaching a point within 
one hundred and fifty miles of New York, they 
were eleven days getting in because of hard winds 
and storms. 

At home on furlough, some members of Mr. 
Yates' old church criticized him for being dressed 
too well. At length it was referred to openly in a 
meeting. Then "Mr. Yates arose with an almost 
heavenly smile on his countenance. He said that 
he did not dress extravagantly; that nearly every- 
thing that he wore at the time had been given to 
him by Brother Skinner and other brethren eleven 
years before, when he went to China. The effect 
was overwhelming. No one could be found who 
would confess that he had said anything about Mr. 
Yates' style of dress," He was always neat in his 
personal appearance, but also very careful and 
frugal, and he did not believe that home Christians 
should delegate all the self-denial to the missionaries. 

Just after his return to China the Civil War broke 
out at home. He was then in the thick of the work 
in Shanghai. The war destroyed the ability of the 
South to maintain its missionaries, and Dr. Yates 
had to find some way of self-support. The municipal 
council of the foreign community and the United 
States consulate offered him work as an interpreter, 
and in this way he supported his family and also 
the mission until the end of the war. In this posi- 

Matthew Tyson Yates 13 1 

tion he won still further the honor and respect of 
the whole community. The work did not take much 
of his time and it left him free to go on with his 
preaching. In 1864 he visited Europe, where he 
won the lasting interest of all whom he met, and 
the following year returned to China, to which he 
henceforth always referred as "home." "It seems 
to be the will of the Lord that I should wear out 
here," he wrote. He began to feel now that he had 
at last learned the secret of the Chinese heart. About 
the methods of the work he had strong convictions, 
as he said at the Shanghai Missionary Conference 
in 1871 : 

"To secure an aggressive native church, there 
are some things which I regard as fundamental : 

"i. A converted and evangelical membership. To 
admit any other element into our churches, even 
though they may be persons of wealth or influence 
as scholars, is to paralyze the whole church. 

"2. They should be taught that when they em- 
brace Christianity they become the disciples of Jesus 
Christ, and not the disciples of the missionary. 

"3. As they become the disciples of Jesus they 
should become thoroughly acquainted with his teach- 
ings in the language in which they think and speak. 
They should be encouraged to commit to memory 
precious and practical portions of the New Testa- 

132 Servants of the King 

ment in the spoken language of their particular 

"4. They should be taught the individuality of 
their religion, that they are personally responsible 
to God ; that they can and ought to exert a personal 
influence in behalf of the religion which they profess. 

"We need to take hold and show them how it 
should be done. This will be easy to do, for the 
Chinese are good imitators, and example is a good 
teacher. And at first, if they need a little aid, we 
should render it, for nothing is so encouraging as 
success. We should strive to avoid the depressing 
influence of failure. And let it be ever borne in 
mind that we need not expect our native preachers 
to be as aggressive as ourselves." 

With characteristic large-mindedness and courage, 
Dr. Yates wrote, about thirty years ago : 'T have 
surveyed and studied a line of attack for the 
Southern Baptists; that is, the line of the great 
River Yang-tzu to the Ssu-ch'uan Province in 
the west." Later on, with more detail, he gave the 
following outline of his plans and labors : "In due 
time, with Shanghai as a base of operations, I chose 
Su-chou, on the Grand Canal, and Chin-chiang, at the 
junction of the Grand Canal with the Yang-tzu 
River, as the great centers for a great work, when 
the men should be found to occupy them. These 
three cities, from a commercial point of view, domi- 

Matthew Tyson Yates 133 

nate a population of more than twenty million souls. 
They are situated in the form of a right-angled tri- 
angle ; the Grand Canal forming one side ; an equally 
grand canal from Shanghai to Su-chou forming the 
other side ; while the Yang-tzu River is the hypoth- 
enuse of the triangle. From Shanghai to Su-chou 
is eighty-five miles; from Su-chou to Chin-chiang 
is one hundred and twenty-seven miles ; from Chin- 
chiang to Shanghai is one hundred and fifty-seven 
miles by the river." 

From constant preaching, his voice failed him. 
He had overtaxed it, and for years to come his 
struggle was to recover its use. He came to 
America and visited Europe and went to great 
doctors, and at last he was able with care to re- 
sume the full activity in which he delighted. Dur- 
ing these years he was for a time the American 
vice-consul-general in Shanghai, using the money 
he received to build chapels and advance the work, 
but when offered the position of consul-general he 
refused and resigned at the same time the office of 
vice-consul. "I could not accept it," he said, "with- 
out giving up my missionary work — my life-work. 
No office, no gift of the government, could induce 
me to do that while I am able to preach and translate. 
I resigned, therefore, the honors and the emolu- 

Dr. Yates had met all difficulties triumphantly so 

134 Servants of the King 

far, and had turned them to good. His failure of 
eyesight led him to become a master of the common 
speech of the people. The failure of his voice led 
him to throw burdens on the native Church which 
strengthened it. The war cut off supplies from 
home, and he earned more upon the field than he 
had been receiving and applied it to the work. And 
now he began to suffer from an affliction for which 
he had nine surgical operations, so he turned to 
Bible translation, and the result was the translation 
of the New Testament into the spoken language of 
many millions. Only his robust physique enabled 
him to stand all this strain. He had always taken 
care of his health. As he wrote to a missionary can- 
didate : "The first qualification of a foreign mission- 
ary is to be a good animal. You may be furnished 
with a first-class instrument, but without physical 
strength to wield it, it would be of little service to 
you. Therefore, guard your health with sedulous 
care as to the Lord. Live well and take regular 
exercise. Play lawn tennis, notwithstanding what 
the drones may say about such sports for a candi- 
date for the foreign mission field. We are not 
bound to observe the austerity of life that a super- 
stitious public is too ready to prescribe. The Scrip- 
tures prescribe no such austerity. Exercise in the 
open air is necessary to secure health of body and 
mind and to preserve youthful spirits. From the 

Matthew Tyson Yates 135 

time I entered college until I graduated, I was in 
the habit of running two miles every morning at 
four o'clock. Even now, I walk my two miles a day. 
I am in splendid health, for which I am profoundly 

Calls came to him from America to return to 
positions of influence here, but he would not listen. 
"I could not come down," he wrote, "from the 
position of an ambassador for Christ to an empire, 
to become president of a college or to accept any 
other position in the gift of the people of the United 
States." He drove straight on in his own work and 
sought to hearten others who were discouraged. "A 
few days ago," he wrote at the age of sixty-seven, 
"I wrote to Mr. Devault, who is ill at Tung-chou, 
urging him to maintain, in addition to strong con- 
victions in regard to his work, an indomitable will 
to do what Christ had commanded him to do, and 
then leave the whole matter of health in the Lord's 
hands. I gave him a prescription from my own 
experience. During my first years in China, I was 
so run down by ague and fever that I thought that 
my work was finished. I came before the Lord in 
this wise: 'O Lord, if it be thy will that my work 
end now, thy will be done. If it is thy will that 
my strength be restored to work for thee in this land 
of darkness, behold thy servant for all time.' The 
decades that have passed show that the Lord was 

136 Servants of the King 

only harnessing me up for a forty-year trot at the 
rate of 2.20. There is Hfe and protection in strong 
convictions, indomitable will, and faith in God. This 
life, this protection against temptation and spiritual 
deadness, is available to all Christians in every con- 
dition of life." 

But the strong life could not last forever, and 
at the age of sixty-nine he died at Chin-chiang, 
where he had gone to build a new chapel. "So much 
work," he said as he lay sick with his last illness, 
"and I can't do any of it." "God can have it done," 
said an associate. "But God needs men," was his 
answer. After forty-one years in Shanghai God 
met him and took him. "I am ready to go," he was 
able to say before the end, "if God wants me. I 
should like to live and work longer, but I am ready." 
So he passed forward, his little church in Shanghai 
mourning for him. "We have lost our good shep- 
herd," they said, "and the flock is bleating." 



The power of educated womanhood is simply the power of 
skilled service. We are not in the world to be ministered 
unto, but to minister. The world is full of need, and every 
opportunity to help is a duty. 

— Isabella Thoburn 


yZ4^^i^^^~ey^iX <Zy ^j/^cy^U-zi.y'x^-t^ — 


FORTY years ago a missionary was traveling" 
and preaching among the villages in Rohil- 
khand, India. One day, when his tent was pitched 
in a mango orchard, he went out for a walk in the 
shade of the trees. In the broken tops of one of 
the trees a vulture had built her nest, and passing 
near the place the missionary picked up a quill which 
had fallen from her wing. Taking out his pen- 
knife he cut the quill into a pen, and as it looked 
like a good pen, although it was very big, he went 
into his tent to see if he could write with it. He 
found that it would write very well, and he thought 
it would interest his sister, far away in America, if 
he wrote to her with his strange pen. So he wrote 
with the vulture's quill a description of the work 
he was doing in the villages, and told her of the 
great need of a boarding-school at some central 
place where the girls from the villages could come 
and be trained for future usefulness, and then be 
sent back to carry light to their darkened homes. 


140 Servants of the King 

The big pen asked, at the close of the letter, and the 
question was almost thoughtless, "How would you 
like to come and take charge of such a school?" By 
the first steamer which could bring a reply the sister's 
answer came, that she would leave for India just 
as soon as the way was opened for her to do so. 

That was the way the call came to Isabella Tho- 
burn. But she would not have heard it if she had 
not been ready for it. Many things had been making 
her ready. God had given her the right ancestry. 
Her Scotch-Irish parents had come to America from 
Belfast in 1825, fifteen years before Isabella was 
born, and settled near St. Clairsville, Ohio, where 
the five sisters and five brothers spent a happy child- 
hood. Her father died when she was ten years old, 
but not before his great strength of character, his 
fear of God, and his courageous devotion to the right 
had made a deep impression on the child. Her 
mother was "a woman of clear convictions, prompt 
decision, and extraordinary courage. One day, when 
alone with one of her daughters, a maniac rushed 
into the room, brandishing an ax in a state of great 
excitement. The daughter was almost paralyzed 
with terror, but the mother spoke kindly to him, con- 
tinued at her work, and in a minute or two asked 
him to let her take his ax, which he at once gave up, 
and very soon he became docile as a child. Her 
moral courage was not less marked than her physical, 

Isabella Thoburn 141 

and her general character was that of a strong but 
tender and sympathetic woman." In all this Isabella 
reproduced her mother, and when, years later, she 
laid aside her work and nursed a smallpox patient 
in Lucknow she justified herself by appealing to her 
mother's example, who night after night had cared 
for a poor neighbor sick with the same disease, with- 
out one thought of fear for herself or her children. 
It was a sincere and consecrated home in which the 
child grew up. When the farm was at last paid for, 
the father brought home the last note and two gold 
eagles. One of these "he tossed into the mother's 
lap and said: 'That is for a new winter cloak for 
you; let us give the other as a thank-offering at the 
missionary collection.' The mother handed back the 
coin and said : 'Let us give both as a thank-offer- 
ing ; / zvill turn my old cloak.' " 

Isabella was sent to the district school, about a 
mile from her home, when she was quite young, but 
she did not take a special interest in her work. In 
later years she said that she had not really awakened 
intellectually until she was sixteen years of age. 
When she was ten she narrowly escaped death from 
a savage attack of a big dog, which a grown-up 
brother beat off with a spade, but not before it had 
fearfully lacerated her arm. At fifteen she entered 
the Wheeling Female Seminary, West Virginia. 
She often lamented later the time she had wasted, 

142 Servants of the King 

as she thought, in these years on music, for which 
she had no taste. After leaving the seminary she 
taught a summer school and met with success from 
the beginning. Dissatisfied with her preparation, 
she returned to the Wheeling seminary, added a 
year of art-study in the Cincinnati Academy of De- 
sign, and then returned to teaching. In March, 
1859, her brother, who wrote her the letter with the 
vulture's quill in 1866, and who afterward became 
Bishop Thoburn, w^ent to India as a missionary. 

The seven years after her brother's going, before 
his letter to her from Rohilkhand, were spent in 
teaching, in caring for her invalid and widowed 
sister-in-law and her three little boys, and in a gen- 
eral preparation for the great work before her, of 
which as yet she did not know. In 1869, however, 
the official call came, and the way, for which 
in 1866 she wrote that she must wait, was opened. 
She and Miss Clara A. Swain, M.D., were appointed 
the first missionaries of the newly established Wom- 
an's Foreign Missionary Society of the Methodist 
Episcopal Church. They sailed from New York 
in the fall of 1869 in the steamer Nevada and ar- 
rived in Bombay January 7, 1870. They were 
just in time for the annual conference of the 
Methodist missionaries. Miss Swain was assigned 
to Bareilly to begin the first medical missionary 
work for women by women in India, and Miss Tho- 

Isabella Thoburn 143 

burn was stationed at Lucknow, which was to be her 
home and the seat of her greatest work. She saw 
at once the bright side of the new conditions of life, 
and she never wrote and seldom spoke of the dis- 
comforts or "trials" of missionary work in India. 

She set herself at once, in her quiet, direct, positive 
way, to build up her girls' school for the training 
especially of Christian girls to make them capable 
of helping and teaching others. The converts were 
few and most of them poor. Some people doubted 
whether the time had come for Miss Thoburn's 
scheme, but she resolutely began with six girls on 
the morning of April 18, 1870. Two of the six 
were Eurasians — half European, half Asiatic — for 
the great revival due to William Taylor's visit to 
India greatly enlarged the field of work among this 
class. Very soon Miss Thoburn bought one of the 
best properties in the city, which had been occupied 
by an opponent of her plans, and had in this place, 
known as Lai Bagh, or Ruby Garden, an ample home 
and place for her work for all her life in India. Six 
years later she started another school for English 
girls at Cawnpur, forty-five miles to the west of 
Lucknow, and for some time she managed both 
schools, going to and fro by night. 

After ten years of solid and faithful work, Miss 
Thoburn came home on furlough. She had always 
shrunk from speaking in public, but in Peabody, 

144 Servants of the King 

Kansas, she was invited to speak in a Presbyterian 
church. "In her earHer years," writes Bishop Tho- 
burn, "she had never known or heard of such a thing 
as a woman speaking in a Presbyterian church, and 
now she was confronted by a request, which would 
brook no denial, to deliver an address in an orthodox 
church of that denomination. She could not refuse, 
and yet would not consent; but finally, by way of 
compromise, she proposed to take a seat in front 
and answer any questions which might be asked. 
'I cannot give an address,' she said, 'but I am will- 
ing to give information by answering questions, and 
in this way I can find out exactly what you wish to 
know.' This plan was followed, with the result 
which might have been anticipated. Question fol- 
lowed question; the replies became somewhat 
lengthy, and before very long it seemed necessary 
for the speaker to rise from her chair in order to 
be better heard in all parts of the church. Thus it 
came to pass that she found herself, almost before 
she realized it, standing in a Presbyterian church 
and delivering an address to an audience on Sunday 
afternoon. Before the meeting closed she realized 
what had happened. She had crossed her Rubicon, 
and any one who knew her would have known that 
she had crossed never to return. She accepted the 
new responsibility cheerfully, and said to her new 
friends: Tf there is anything wrong about this, 

Isabella Thoburn 145 

you must bear me witness that the Presbyterians 
are responsible for it.' " She was soon in demand 
everywhere, and ever afterward was one of the most 
acceptable and effective of missionary speakers. She 
was never pretentious nor excited, but always ear- 
nest, calmly intense, and so direct and practical that 
no one heard her without feeling the power of her 
personality. She made notable addresses at great 
missionary conferences in India, and at the Ecumen- 
ical Missionary Conference in New York in 1900, 
and those who heard her speak will never forget her 
quiet but overpowering presentation of the needs 
of the women of India. 

On returning to India, in 1882, she began to 
develop her school into a college, and did not rest 
until it became the highest-g;rade institution for 
Christian women in India. "In America," she said 
in one of her appeals, "we realize the importance of 
placing people in colleges which are under direct 
Christian influence. Much more is it important in 
a heathen land, where new thought awakened under 
secular instruction runs toward infidelity; where the 
doubts and speculations of all the ages are alive and 
at war with faith; where blind belief in the false 
makes the truth a stumbling-block ; and where wom- 
en who are being set free from the restraints of old 
customs must be surrounded by restraints of prin- 
ciple, or their cause is lost, and with it the hope of 

146 Servants of the King 

regeneration for their people. The need of India 
to-day is a leadership from among her own people ; 
leadership, not of impulsive enthusiasm, or of preju- 
dice, but of matured judgment and conscientious 
conviction. Part of our work as missionaries is to 
educate and train the character that can lead, and 
it is to accomplish this that we formed our first 
woman's college in the Eastern world. There are 
over one hundred colleges in India for young men, 
but only one for young women, and that not Chris- 
tian. Think what efforts we would make if there 
were only one college for women in America, and, 
in some measure, let us recognize the universal sister- 
hood, and make like efforts for the women of India." 
Before her plans were all carried out, failing 
health sent her home again in 1886. On the way 
home she read The Life of Robert and Mary Moffat, 
the great missionaries in South Africa whose daugh- 
ter married David Livingstone. She wrote of it : 
*Tn the light of their zeal and unfailing devotion, of 
their sacrifices — which w^ere worthy the name indeed, 
though they did not call them so — of their faith in 
the face of difficulties we never dream of, our poor 
work seems scarcely worthy of mention, not worthy 
to be compared to theirs. The book is a simple 
record of real life, but it is a sacred romance, 
though the principal actors never dreamed that 
they were uncommon people or the heroes we see 

Isabella Thoburn 147 

them to be. As we close the record it is with an in- 
tense longing for the true martyr spirit, that can, not 
only give life for a cause or a truth, but can do more, 
can give living service; nor counting anything 
dear, but consecrating all and maintaining the con- 
secration with unfaltering heroism, an intense long- 
ing begins to be felt for an outpouring of the Holy 
Spirit upon the Church, by which her sons and 
daughters will be anointed with power, with true 
heroism, and sent abroad over all the dark places of 
the earth. We count the missionaries we have sent 
out, the dollars we have given, the schools we have 
opened, and then congratulate ourselves that we 
have done well; but, dear sisters, in the great day, 
the 'well done,' spoken to women like Mary Moffat, 
will put to shame our easy service and show us what 
might have been accomplished if we had 'done what 
we could.' " 

In this spirit she threw herself into work at 
home so long as she was kept there. She became 
house mother of the New Deaconess Home in 
Chicago, then organized similar work in Cincinnati, 
and began it in Boston, always showing forth every- 
where the spirit of service, which she believed was 
the fundamental thing in Christianity, and which 
she urged upon all young women as the great ideal 
of life. "The call comes to-day," she said, "and 
would that all who sit at ease, and yet long for the 

148 Servants of the King 

heart's rest they have not ; all who spend upon them- 
selves their thought and strength ; all who build like 
the insect their own houses of clay in which they 
can only perish — would that all these knew the 
blessedness of service to every creature for whom 
Christ died, whether in African deserts or islands of 
the sea ! So many seek places where others crowd 
in before them, while there is room for all, far out 
and far down, and there need be no Christian woman 
in all this happy land who cannot find a place in 
which to serve our common Master with a glad and 
willing heart." 

In 1890 she returned to India and was reappointed 
principal of the Woman's College at Lucknow. She 
took hold again with her wonted wisdom and energy. 
"One of the first things she did was to give up her 
own cool and quiet room for the noisy quarters of 
the matron in the center of the boarding-house," says 
a former pupil who was there at the time, "while 
the matron was allowed to occupy a room at one 
end of the same building, and to continue her work 
as usual. We can now understand that this was done 
to check a certain laxity in the management of the 
girls, without offending any of the parties, which is 
often the case in other schools when a reform is 
undertaken by a new lady principal. 

"When Miss Thoburn rang the rising-bell with 
her own hands, the girls did not find it hard to 

Isabella Thoburn 149 

rise early; when she made her own bed and dusted 
the things in her room, the girls felt that their 
special duty was even to sweep their rooms and 
keep them neat and tidy; when she wrote her busi- 
ness letters, it was the most natural thing for 
everybody to be quiet, and also during the rest- 
hour, and so on. The matron, too, received much 
help. The storeroom was kept in good order, 
and the meals of the girls were properly attended 
to, because she went into the kitchen at least 
once a day and peeped into the storeroom every 
now and then; the sweepers were well watched, be- 
cause she went around the whole place to see if it 
was clean ; the sick girls were nursed with much 
care and patience, because she had the worst cases 
in her own room, and sat up nights with them — and 
so on through the whole routine of duty. And even 
when she went back to her own room in the main 
building after several months, she still kept most 
of the work under her own personal supervision. In 
the school building, too, there was much skill in the 
methods of teaching and keeping discipline, because 
Miss Thoburn herself taught the most difficult sub- 
jects, and also some of the least promising classes. 
All this was done with a quiet dignity which in- 
spired both love and awe in all around her, and 
grown-up people were struck with the wisdom which 
guided her to do all things without offending." Miss 

150 Servants of the King 

Thoburn was not the kind to talk and expect others 
to do. She led others to do by herself doing. 

Her supreme qualities were her unboastful but 
all-dominating love and her plain, firm sense of duty. 
"Every missionary candidate should learn hy heart, 
in the deepest sense," she wrote to young women 
looking forward to the mission field, ''that golden 
thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians." She liked 
the deaconess work because it led women into sim- 
ple, faithful duty-doing in Christ's service. "Be- 
fore I left India in 1886," she wrote, "I had become 
convinced of two things that we have since thought 
important factors in our deaconess system : first, that 
while there is so much to be done in the world it is 
impossible to accomplish it all, or the large part of 
it, by salaried work; and, next, that life is not long 
enough, nor money plentiful enough, to spend much 
of either on the clothes we wear." Her absolute 
unselfishness and sincerity combined with her tire- 
less energy and great practical wisdom to make her 
a master missionary. 

The equipment and development of the college 
laid heavy burdens on her, and her last visit home, 
in 1900, was to raise money for the immediate needs 
of the institution. She and Miss Lilavati Singh, one 
of her pupils, met with complete success on this 
errand. The object-lesson of her work in India seen 
in Miss Singh was itself the most convincing of 

Isabella Thoburn 151 

arguments. It was at a dinner in New York at the 
time of the Ecumenical Conference, after Miss Singh 
had spoken, that ex-President Harrison rose, with 
tears on his cheeks, and said : "If I had ever had 
a million dollars and had spent it all on foreign 
missions and this young woman were the only re- 
sult, I should feel amply repaid for my investment." 
And the crowning evidence of the reality of Miss 
Thoburn's work was found in the fact that all the 
praise Miss Singh received did not in the least spoil 
her or turn her head. 

Together they went back to India, in May, 1900. 
On the way Miss Thoburn began to feel that her 
work was done, and the feeling deepened after she 
reached India. In a little more than two months 
the end, which she knew was near, came, and she 
died of cholera in Lucknow on September ist. The 
life here was done, but it had achieved its victory. 
"Here was a rich and powerful government," said 
a missionary of another denomination, "anxious to 
promote the cause of female education, on the one 
hand, and a Christian woman without money, pres- 
tige, or other resources, on the other. Both had the 
same object in view and both were in the same field, 
but the lone missionary worker succeeded, while the 
powerful government met with comparative failure. 
The whole case is simply a marvel. It is a picture 
worthy of the most serious study." What was the 

152 Servants of the King 

secret? Miss Singh found it in one of Miss Tho- 
burn's favorite Bible verses : "That in all things 
he might have the preeminence." "I am a poor crea- 
ture," Miss Thoburn wrote, "yet no matter; for in 
Christ I can work, and if I were strong and wise 
I could do nothing without him." Whoever has 
learned that lesson has gained the secret of strength 
and wisdom. Have we learned it? 



God has given us an opportunity which we dare not neglect. 

-^James Robertson 




HI vi'v 



^^^^B ^^^^^H 




^IHi 1 iM 

cz:^ ^W-tC^l-t/^^-r^ 



SHE was a little woman," said one of Christina 
Robertson's daughters. "There was nothing 
that any woman could do that she could not do, and 
when it was done it needed no second doing." James 
Robertson was his mother's own son. He was born 
on April 24, 1839, in the little village of Dull in 
the valley of the Tay in Scotland. He was an 
even-tempered boy and self -controlled, but, as his 
schoolmaster said, he was a "terrible fighter when 
fighting had to be done." Whatever he once took 
a grip of he never let go. When he was sixteen a 
problem in arithmetic that had given some trouble 
in the college at Edinburgh was sent down to the 
master at Dull. "If any of them can solve it," said 
he, "it will be Robertson." So to Robertson he gave 
it, and the lad "took it home and fell upon it." 
When his father was going to bed that night he said 
to his boy, "Are you not comin' to your bed, lad?" 
"Yes, after a while," replied the boy, hardly look- 
ing up from his slate. But when next morning the 


156 Servants of the King 

father came in to light the fire, James rose from the 
spot where he had been left sitting the night before^ 
with the solution of the problem in his hands. 

The family was very poor, and all that he had 
James Robertson's father lost in the terrible storm 
which buried Tayside under snow in 1854 and ruined 
many a small sheep farmer. The times that fol- 
lowed were so hard that the family decided to leave 
Scotland and try their fortune in Canada. In 1855 
they sailed on the George Roger and settled in East 
Oxford, Ontario. That part of Ontario was then 
forest wilderness, and the family spent their first 
summer in enlarging the clearing on their farm. 
The following winter James and his brother chopped 
cord-wood and hauled it to the neighboring village 
of Woodstock, and the next summer worked again 
on the farm, but for a few weeks he walked night 
and morning a distance of six miles to attend school 
at Woodstock. He tried at once for a teacher's 
certificate, which he secured, and got a country 
school at the age of eighteen. There was much 
whisky-drinking in those days and James became a 
firm and zealous advocate of total abstinence. He 
was an earnest Christian boy, also walking to and 
from Woodstock twice each Sunday in order to be 
present at both morning and evening services and 
he connected himself with the Chalmers Church in 

James Robertson 157 

From the country school where he first taught, 
Robertson went in 1859 to a larger school near 
Innerkip. He is still remembered by those who were 
his pupils there. "He was afraid of nothing," 
writes one of them, "man, beast, or devil. There 
was a fractious colt on the farm where he boarded 
which none of us dared to handle. Robertson 
mastered him and rendered him tractable." "What 
seemed to others impossible," said another, "that 
was the thing that had a peculiar charm for him." 
Here at Innerkip he met the young woman whom 
he married. The task of winning her was not easy, 
but that made it only the more uplifting to him and 
he prevailed. It was twelve long years, however, 
before they could be married. For three years he 
taught the Innerkip school and then went off to the 
University of Toronto. His clothes were not of 
the latest fashion and he was a sober student, but 
no one could help respecting him. As one student 
said of him, "Though he wore his trousers at high- 
water mark, and though his hats were wonderful to 
behold and his manners abrupt and uncouth, still 
'Jeemsie,' as he was dubbed by the irreverent, com- 
manded the respect of the giddiest of the lot for his 
fine heart and for his power of pungent speech, for 
he would fire words at you Hke a cannon-ball. And 
for the ridicule of the boys, Jeemsie cared not a 
tinker's curse." He joined the University Corps of 

158 Servants of the King 

the Queen's Own Rifles and saw some fighting when 
a fellow student was shot down beside him in the 
Fenian Raid of 1866. 

After his university course he went to Princeton 
Theological Seminary, the opportunities at that time 
in the States being better than in Canada. After 
two years at Princeton he went to New York to 
Union Seminary to finish his course and then took 
charge of a downtown mission, where he made so 
great a success that the committee and Dr. John Hall 
tried to persuade him to stay and work in New 
York, but his duty, as he saw it, led him back to his 
own adopted country. After being married, Sep- 
tember 2^, 1869, he settled for five years in Norwich, 
Ontario. He was a fine, strong preacher and 
pastor, and what was more, a fine, strong man. It 
is related how on a Sabbath evening, after he had 
begun his service, the fire-bell rang. At once Mr. 
Robertson dismissed the congregation, for fire pro- 
tection there was none, unless such as could be pro- 
vided by the bucket-brigade. It was discovered that 
a neighboring hotel was on fire. Immediately the 
minister took command of the situation, organized 
the crowd, and by dint of the most strenuous exer- 
tions had the fire suppressed. In gratitude for his 
services, and in sympathy with his exhausted con- 
dition, the hotel-keeper brought him a bottle of 
brandy with which to refresh himself. "Never will 

James Robertson 159 

I forget," writes another member of his congrega- 
tion, "the manner in which he seized that brandy 
bottle by the neck, swung it around his head, and 
dashed it against the brick wall, exclaiming as he 
did so, 'That's a fire that can never be put out,' " 

Far to the west a great new country had been 
opening up. At first it was thought to be a waste 
land, but in 1870 the troops returning from the 
suppression of the Northwest rebellion, under Louis 
Riel, a half-breed Indian, "the officers who com- 
manded, the politicians and shrewd business men 
who followed in their wake, all came back enthusias- 
tic immigration agents." Then began the tidal 
waves of immigration which flooded this great 
Western country with men hungry for land. And 
the churches came in after them. 

They did not come as fast as they should have 
come, however, and at the close of the year 1873 
Robertson responded to an appeal to go out to preach 
in the new Knox Church in Winnipeg, the raw but 
growing capital of the province of Manitoba. It was 
a long, rough winter journey. There was no trans- 
continental railroad in Canada and Robertson went 
out by way of Detroit, Chicago, and St. Paul. From 
Breckenridge, the end of the railway from St. Paul, 
it took four days to get through to Winnipeg. There 
he found a long, straggling street of shacks and 
stores, huddled on the bleak prairie around the big 

i6o Servants of the King 

stone fort of the Hudson Bay Company and a great 
country soon to be filled with men, and also a divided 
church. He settled down to his task, and the six 
months lengthened out to cover the rest of his life. 
The church called him to stay, and he sent for his 
family and stayed. 

In the new land with its fierce winters he had 
a full experience. "Once during the winter of 
1877 he went to Stony Mountain to perform a 
marriage ceremony. On his return a storm came 
up with startling suddenness. The sun was shin- 
ing brightly and there was no appearance of a 
storm, when Mr. Robertson noticed a great white 
cloud like snow rolling along near the ground, while 
the sky still remained clear. In another instant the 
storm was upon him, a blizzard so blinding that the 
horse stopped, turned round, and left the trail. With 
a great deal of difficulty he got the horse back to 
the road, unhitched it from the cutter, took off the 
harness and let it go, then set off himself to fight 
his way through the storm. A short distance from 
Kildonan he overtook a man hauling a load of wood 
who had lost his way, and who was almost insensible 
from cold and fatigue. He turned the horses loose 
and took the man with him to a house in Kildonan. 
After half an hour's rest he set off again for Winni- 
peg, for he had left his wife sick in bed and well 
knew she would be in terror for him. So once more 

James Robertson i6i 

he faced the bHzzard, and after two hours' struggle 
he reached his home." 

In 1 88 1 he left the pastorate to accept the newly 
created post of superintendent of home missions 
for Manitoba and the Northwest. He set off at 
once on his first missionary tour, driving two thou- 
sand miles, at first through heat and dust and rain 
and then through frosts and blizzards. He preached 
where he could, and was not to be discouraged by 
any situation. Once coming to a settlement late on 
a Saturday evening where the largest building was 
the hotel and the largest room the bar, he inquired 
of the hotel man : 

''Is there any place where I can hold a service 
to-morrow ?" 


"Yes, a preaching service." 

"Preaching? Oh, yes, I'll get you one," he re- 
plied with genial heartiness. 

Next day Mr. Robertson came into the bar, which 
was crowded with men. 

"Well, have you found a room for my service?" 
he inquired of his genial host. 

"Here you are, boss, right here. Get in behind 
that bar and here's your crowd. Give it to 'em. 
God knows they need it." 

Mr. Robertson caught the wink intended for the 
boys only. Behind the bar were bottles and kegs 

1 62 Servants of the King 

and other implements of the trade; before it men 
standing up for their drinks, chaffing, laughing, 
swearing. The atmosphere could hardly be called 
congenial, but the missionary was "onto his job," 
as the boys afterwards admiringly said. He gave out 
a hymn. Some of the men took off their hats and 
joined in the singing, one or two whistling an ac- 
companiment. As he was getting into his sermon 
one of the men, evidently the smart one of the com- 
pany, broke in : 

"Say, boss," he drawled, "I like yer nerve, but 
I don't believe yer talk." 

"All right," replied Mr. Robertson, "give me a 
chance. When I get through you can ask any ques- 
tions you like. If I can I will answer them, if I 
can't I'll do my best." 

The reply appealed to the sense of fair play in the 
crowd. They speedily shut up their companion and 
told the missionary to "fire ahead," which he did, 
and to such good purpose that when he had finished 
there was no one ready to gibe or question. After 
the service was closed, however, one of them ob- 
served earnestly : 

"I believe every word you said, sir. I haven't 
heard anything like that since I was a kid, from my 
Sunday-school teacher. I guess I gave her a pretty 
hard time. But look here, can't you send us a mis- 

James Robertson 163 

slonary for ourselves? We'll chip in, won't we, 
boys ?" 

One of his first concerns was to raise a Church 
and Manse Building Fund. So well did he work at 
persuading money out of even the most unsympa- 
thetic that, when he laid down the work twenty 
years later, the fund had assisted in the erection of 
419 churches, 90 manses, and 4 schoolhouses, and 
had put the Church in possession of property valued 
at $603,835. 

The railroad had crossed the Red River and 
entered Winnipeg in 1881, and thence had pressed 
steadily westward. The inflowing tide of immigra- 
tion had taken up the land along the road and then 
pressed outward into the country on either side. 
The people along the road were easily accessible, but 
Robertson was not content to reach these alone. 
He was after all, and he went everywhere look- 
ing for them. And he took what experience came 
in the way of his duty. Of one night, typical 
of many, a companion wrote : 

"That night was spent in 'a stopping-place,' and 
Dr. Robertson and I roomed together in a small 
bedroom off the sitting-room. We roomed together, 
but we slept not, neither did we lie down to rest. 
A hurried inspection revealed the fact that the bed 
was preempted by the living pest which a man 
shakes not off, as in the morning he crawls from 

164 Servants of the King 

under the bedclothing. We determined to keep the 
fire in the sitting-room going, and so maintain a 
degree of comfort during the winter night. But 
some parties, by making a bed beside the sitting- 
room stove, spoiled our plan and imprisoned us in 
our room for the night. We walked the floor, we 
jumped, and, if not very artistically, at least with 
some vigor, we danced, that the temperature of the 
body might be maintained at a considerably higher 
degree than the temperature of the room. The night 
passed, and so did the breakfast hour, and we started 
on our twelve-mile drive." 

"To-night," he wrote himself of another stopping- 
place, "we are to lodge in a place 7x12 feet, parti- 
tioned off from the stable. A lot of hay covers the 
floor, a rusty stove is standing in the corner, which, 
with a rickety table, constitute the furniture. We 
found a lantern which will answer for a light. The 
side is quite airy, the boards having shrunk a good 
deal. But I have a good tuque, or nightcap, and I 
hope to keep warm enough. I have two buffalo-robes, 
two pairs of blankets, and other appliances that will 
likely keep me comfortable. Three teams besides our 
own drove in here just now, and are going to remain 
all night. I think the room will afford sufficient 
accommodation to enable us to lie down. To-mor- 
row we expect to make Humboldt at six." 

In the first five years he established on the 

[ (839 - »302 

PasTOS or NORWICH 1859 - 1874 

IS74 — 18S1 


ISBI — I90a 

. 'iS&iS^St"!!!^?^- . 


James Robertson 165 

average one preaching station a week. His first 
report showed a communicant roll of 1,355 for all 
the West ; the report for 1887 showed 5.623. When 
he came to his field the Presbytery of Manitoba had 
knowledge of only 971 families. In a single year 
he discovered 1,000 more and placed these formerly 
unknown and isolated families in church homes, 
and during the five years he discovered and set in 
Church relation over 3,000 Presbyterian families. 
When he took into his hands the reins of superin- 
tendency, he found in all the West some fifteen 
churches. Before five years were over there were 
nearly 100. In attaining these results, he wanted 
men who would work and not whine. 

"I remember him telling me," a minister relates, 
"of a student whose zeal was less than his indolence. 
He was in charge of a mission somewhere near 
Regina, and lived in rooms which were attached to 
the church. Dr. Robertson drove over one morning, 
knowing that he was due to preach in an outlying 
station ten miles away at eleven o'clock. 

"I knocked at the outer door at ten o'clock, sir, 
and when I got no answer I concluded that he had 
started on his journey. However, I opened the door 
and walked in. I went upstairs and rapped on the 
door of his bedroom. I heard a sleepy voice say, 
'Come in,' and I opened the door and found him yet 

1 66 Servants of the King 

in bed. He preached that morning without his 
breakfast, sir." 

"Talking with a whining student one day," says 
another, "who was relating what he considered hard- 
ships in the way of uncomfortable beds in which 
there were crawling things, and irregular meals not 
always prepared in the most tasty form, the super- 
intendent began very sympathetically telling some 
of his own experiences. Sleeping one night in a 
dugout, wrapped in his blanket on the clay floor, 
which was several feet below the surface of the 
ground, he felt cold, clammy things on his back and 
face. He would brush them off and turn over, and 
by the time he was getting off to sleep again there 
would be another visitation, and so he kept brushing 
them away the whole night. 

" 'And what were these things ?' asked the won- 
dering student. 

"Well, you see the floor was two feet below the 
ground. The ground was worn away several inches 
lower than the door, and the lizards would fall over 
the edge of the cutting and crawl under the door, and 
during the night creep over the floor. And these 
lizards were enjoying a warm nest on my neck and 

"The poor student stood horrified. The superin- 
tendent enthused for a few moments on lice and 
lizards and snakes, as though encounters therewith 

James Robertson 167 

were as valuable as theology in a true missionary's 
education, and the complaining dude subsided. His 
hardships vanished into thin air." 

He knew how to handle the rough elements in 
the new far Western country. After a meeting in 
Rossland, a British Columbia mining tov^^n then at 
the height of its boom, one rough fellow exclaimed 
of him: **Say, ain't he a corker?" and then sol- 
emnly, after due thought, "He's a Jim Dandy 

While he was making his first trip through 
Alberta and was soliciting subscriptions for the erec- 
tion of a church in connection with one of his 
mission stations, he came upon a young Scotchman 
who rejected his appeal, asserting with an oath that 
he had never known a professing Christian "who 
wasn't a blank hypocrite, anyway." 

"Well," said the superintendent, "I am sorry, sir, 
that you had such a poor mother." 

"What do you mean, sir?" was the angry retort. 
"What do you know of my mother?" 

"Was she a professing Christian?" 

"She was." 

"And was she a good woman?" 

"She was that, but," feeling his equivocal position, 
"there are not many like her." 

"We want to make Christians like your mother in 

1 68 Servants of the King 

this country, and that is why we are building this 

Before the interview was over he had added an- 
other name to his subscription hst. 

At Fort McLeod, to which he came by the Leth- 
bridge stage, driven by the stage driver Jake, famous 
for his skill as a driver and for his profanity, he was 
pinning up a notice of a service to be held on Sun- 
day, the day following, when a young fellow came 
in, read the notice, and burst into cursing. The 
superintendent listened quietly till he had finished, 
then said blandly : 

"Is that the best you can do ? You ought to hear 
Jake. You go to Jake. He'll give you points." 

The derisive laughter that followed completely 
quenched the crestfallen young man. In the even- 
ing the superintendent came upon him in the street, 
got into conversation with him, found he was of 
Presbyterian extraction, that he had been well 
brought up, but in that wild land had fallen into 
evil ways. 

"Come now," said the superintendent, "own up; 
you were trying to bluff me this afternoon, weren't 

"Well, I guess so," was the shamefaced reply. 
"But you held over me." 

"Now look here," replied the superintendent, 

James Robertson 169 

"you get me a good meeting to-morrow afternoon, 
and we'll call it square." 

The young man promised, and the next day's 
meeting proved him to be as good as his word. 

Dr. Robertson was not only a missionary super- 
intendent. He was a citizen and a patriot. He took 
up the cause of the Indians and secured a reform 
of the corrupt agencies which were preying upon 
them. He helped to found the University of Mani- 
toba. He was for years a member of the Board of 
Education for Manitoba, and he was an ardent advo- 
cate of the public schools. He was a great reader 
on his long journeys. His general knowledge of the 
Northwest was drawn upon by both the government 
and the Canadian Pacific Railway. His judgment 
determined the location of one of the railway's 
branch lines. 

In 1896 he visited Scotland, but he put all his 
time and strength into speaking in the churches 
about the needs of Canada and into the solicitation of 
funds. He came back with nearly $12,000 and sup- 
port for over forty missionaries. The next year 
came the great gold rush to the Yukon. Ten thou- 
sand men, some said twenty, with the rumseller, the 
gambler, and all the human birds of prey, had 
poured into the Klondike before a single missionary 
went in. Robertson flung himself with characteris- 
tic energy into the work of providing the men and 

1 70 Servants of the King 

the money to meet this great need. But the strain 
was too great. He had gone ill to Scotland and 
he came home ill. Unknown to him a dangerous 
disease had fastened upon him. He kept going by 
force of will, but he could not live on his will 
permanently, and in 1897 the break came and he 
went back at last to his family from whom he had 
long been separated by his far journeys. It was 
the first Christmas in sixteen years that he had spent 
with them. He was soon better, and the next sum- 
mer was back at his work again as hard as ever, but 
he could not stand it long, and in 1900 he and his 
wife went off together to Scotland and then to the 
Continent. He seized all opportunities for raising 
money for the Canadian work, and came back in 
1 90 1 with 42 men promised and over $10,000 for 
the work. He took up his task again with his old 
energy. He had a fearful fall in November which 
would have disabled any common man, but not 
Robertson. He kept every engagement. 

"I shall never forget his appearance," writes the 
Rev. John Neil, ''when he came into the vestry be- 
fore service. He had a bandage over one eye, and 
his appearance indicated that he had been passing 
through some trying experiences. He said, 'Dr. 
Warden insisted upon my not coming this mornmg, 
but when I make an engagement I am always deter- 

James Robertson 17 1 

mined, if possible, to carry it out. I hope your con- 
gregation will not resent my coming in this form.' " 

He succeeded so well in his appeal that he wrote : 
"I am going to disable the other shoulder and get 
my other eye blackened." 

The end was very near now. The last Sunday 
of the year 1901 he kept for his home; and from 
his home, on January 4, 1902, he passed on to the 
higher service. "I am done out," he said to his 
wife as he sank to sleep. So he went forward, the 
"man of heroic mold, but of tenderest heart. Char- 
itable in his judgments of men, generous and sym- 
pathetic in his dealings with them, he was himself 
a living embodiment of that gospel which he 
preached as the only hope for the individual or 
the nation." 



How I think of those islands ! . . . Hundreds of people 
are crowding upon them, naked, armed, with uncouth cries and 
gestures. . . . But they are all my children now. May 
God enable me to do my duty by them. 

— John Coleridge Patteson 




SIXTY-FOUR years ago, at the annual dinner 
given by the cricket eleven to the eight of the 
boats at Eton, when one of the boys, in accordance 
with a custom which had arisen, began to sing an 
objectionable song, another boy called out, "If that 
does not stop, I shall leave the room !" The singing 
went on, so the boy who had protested rose and went 
out with a few other lads as fearless and high- 
minded as he was. That boy was Coleridge Patte- 
son, and, not content with what he had done, he sent 
word to the captain that unless an apology was made 
he should leave the eleven. That would have been 
no small sacrifice to him, and it would have been 
a very serious loss to the eleven. Partly for that 
reason, and partly because the manly feelings of the 
better boys prevailed, the apology was made and the 
best cricketer in the school kept his place. 

The boy had grown to such power and strength 
as this in a true Christian home under the influence 
of the best of mothers and fathers. His father, Sir 


176 Servants of the King 

John Patteson, was one of the ablest judges in Eng- 
land, and there was the most open and intimate affec- 
tion between him and his son. In New Zealand, the 
wife of the Chief Justice wrote: "He used to walk 
beside my pony and tell me about 'his dear father' — 
how lovingly his voice used to linger over those 
words. ... I remember his bright look the first 
day it became certain that we must visit England. 
'Why, then you will see my dear father and tell him 
all about me.' " 

The boy who had such a father and loved him so 
was sure not to be unlike him. His mother, as 
Coley's uncle wrote, was "of the most affectionate, 
loving disposition, without a grain of selfishness, and 
of the stoutest adherence to principle and duty. . . . 
What she felt was right she insisted on, at whatever 
pain to herself." 

Coleridge Patteson was born in London on April 
I, 1827. The poet Coleridge was his great-uncle. 
He was a warmly affectionate but fiery-tempered 
little boy, troublesome and dogged, but reverent, 
simple-natured, and, under the loving discipline of 
home and school, coming slowly into form as a stead- 
fast, self-controlled, unselfish lad of the highest 
honor and the most unswerving strength of char- 
acter. He learned to read when he was five, and got 
his first Bible on his seventh birthday. From the 
beginning of his boyish purpose he thought he would 

John Coleridge Patteson 177 

be a clergyman. His first school was Ottery St. 
Mary, in Devonshire, of which his great-grandfather 
and great-uncle had both been head masters. Thither 
he was sent at the age of nine, and at the age of 
eleven to Eton,' where he lived with his uncle, one 
of the most popular and successful Eton masters. 
While he was home on a vacation, the Bishop of 
New Zealand, Bishop Selwyn, who had just been 
made Bishop, visited his father and preached in a 
neighboring church. The sermon deeply influenced 
the little boy, and when the Bishop left he said, half 
in earnest, half in playfulness, "Lady Patteson, will 
you give me Coley ?" Years after he went with the 
Bishop, but the mother who would have given him 
died before he had left Eton. He threw himself 
into the life of the school, and never loved any place 
more than he loved Eton. In a great schoolboy wel- 
come to Queen Victoria, then only nineteen, he was 
nearly run over by her carriage, and was only saved 
by the young Queen's presence of mind in reaching 
out and giving him her hand until he regained his 

Another time, the Duke of Wellington came and 
was separated from his company and hustled in the 
crowd until, as the enthusiastic boy says : "1 was the 
first to perceive him, and springing forward, pushed 
back the fellows on each side, who did not know 
whom they were tumbling against, and, taking off 

178 Servants of the King 

my hat, cheered with might and main. The crowd, 
hearing the cheer, turned round, and then there 
was the most glorious sight I ever saw. The whole 
school encircled the Duke, who stood entirely alone 
in the middle for a minute or two, and I rather 
think we did cheer him. At last, giving about one 
touch to his hat, he began to move on, saying, 'Get 
on, boys, get on.' I never saw such enthusiasm 
here ; the masters rushed into the crowd round him, 
waving their caps and shouting like any of us. As 
for myself, I was half-mad and roared myself 
hoarse in about five minutes." 

He was not one of the best students in Eton. He 
had done well, but he was slow in coming to his full 
powers. Even at Oxford, although a good student, 
the hidden fire had scarcely burned out into light, 
"For it was character," wrote one of his 
friends, "more than special ability which marked 
him out from others and made him, wher- 
ever he was, whether in cricket, in which he 
excelled, or in graver things, a center round which 
others gathered. The impression he left on me was 
of quiet, gentle strength and entire purity, a heart 
that loved all things true and honest and pure, and 
that would always be found on the side of these. We 
did not know, probably he did not know himself, the 
fire of devotion that lay within him, but that was 

John Coleridge Patteson 179 

soon to kindle and make him what he afterward 

Coleridge Patteson awoke, intellectually, when he 
went to Germany to study in 1852. There he dis- 
covered and developed his remarkable gift for lan- 
guages. He spoke German fluently and wrote it cor- 
rectly, and he studied Hebrew and Arabic and 
Syriac. His boyish distaste for mental exertion 
passed away, and the individuality and originality 
of his mind appeared. When he returned v from 
Dresden to Oxford "he had become quite another 
person," said Mr. Roundell. "The moral and spir- 
itual power of the man were all alive." The deeper, 
inner life was coming to maturity. "I believe it to 
be a good thing," he wrote to his sister, "to break 
off any work once or twice a day in the middle of 
any reading, for meditating a little while and for 
prayer." He was somewhat conscious of himself, 
as most earnest young men are, and he examined his 
own feelings, but not more than all devoted men 
must, and he soon moved out into an active life of 
unselfish service. 

He left Oxford in 1853 to work at Alfington in 
the parish of Ottery St. Mary. There, among the 
poor and the rich, for the children of wretched 
homes and among the people of his own class, he 
wrought in tireless and simple-hearted love. He 
opened a Boys' Home for the lads from the profli- 

i8o Servants of the King 

gate families, and he visited and preached as one 
who would save souls. This same year he was or- 
dained, and the parish opened its heart to him in 
return for his loving and unresting work. But God 
meant him for larger things, and the next year 
Bishop Sehvyn came back for the gift he had asked 
of Lady Patteson thirteen years before. It was no 
struggle to Coley, except to ask his father to give 
him up, but Sir John faced it like the true servant 
of Christ he was. As a Christian judge he weighed 
the arguments for and against, dwelt on all that his 
son was to him, and added to the Bishop : "But 
there, what right have I to stand in his way? How 
do I know that I may live another year?" And as 
the conversation ended, "Mind!" he said, "I give 
him wholly, not with any thought of seeing him 
again. I will not have him thinking he must come 
home again to see me." 

With his father's blessing, he sailed for New 
Zealand with the Bishop on March 28, 1855, reach- 
ing Auckland on July 5. He was soon talking to 
the Maoris, as the New Zealand natives are called, 
in their own language, and entering in his whole- 
some, complete-hearted way into the work, realizing 
deeply how much depended on right beginnings for 
him and for those whom he had come to help. He 
took his part in the work of the college, where the 
Bishop had in training young men for teachers and 

John Coleridge Patteson 18 1 

clergymen. "I clean, of course," he wrote, "my 
room in part, make my bed, help to clear away things 
after meals, etc., and am quite accustomed to do 
without servants for anything but cooking." 

But he learned to cook, too. "I hope you are well 
suited with a housekeeper," he wrote home. "If I 
were at home I could fearlessly advertise for such a 
situation. I have passed through the preliminary 
steps of housemaid and scullery maid, and now, hav- 
ing taken to serving out stores, am quite qualified for 
the post, especially after my last performance of 
making bread, and even a cake." 

He learned much more than this. He soon be- 
came an expert sailor, able to handle the little mis- 
sion schooner on which, in 1856, he went off on his 
first long trip with the Bishop to the New Hebrides 
Islands, visiting Aneityum, where John G. Paton 
soon came to work, and many other islands. "After 
nearly seventeen weeks at sea," he wrote, "we re- 
turned safely on Sunday morning, the 15th, with 
thirty-three Melanesians, gathered from nine islands 
and speaking eight languages. Plenty of work for 
me ; I can teach tolerably in three, and have a smat- 
tering of one or two more. . . . We visited 
sixty-six islands and landed eighty-one times, wad- 
ing, swimming, etc. ; all most friendly and delight- 
ful ; only two arrows shot at us, and only one went 
near — so much for savages. I wonder what people 

1 82 Servants of the King 

ought to call sandalwood traders and slave masters 
if they call my Melanesians savages." 

The plan was to prepare these boys in the college 
at Auckland and send them back to work among 
their own people. Year by year he taught them and 
sent them back, and went to and fro among the 
islands, often in danger, but never afraid, and ever 
more and more trusted and loved. 

In 1 86 1 Patteson was consecrated Bishop of the 
Melanesian Islands, Bishop Selwyn having long felt 
that the work ought to be provided for in this way. 
His consecration did not stiffen Coleridge Patteson's 
methods of loving and simple dealing with his peo- 
ple. "As for my life-work," he wrote home, "it will 
be precisely the same in all respects, my external life 
altered only to the extent of my wearing a broader- 
brimmed and lower-crowned hat. Dear Joan is in- 
vesting moneys in cutaway coats, buckles without 
end, and no doubt knee-breeches and what she calls 
'gambroons' (whereof I have no cognizance), none 
of which will be worn more than (say) four or five 
times in the year. Gambroons and aprons and lawn 
sleeves won't go a-voyaging, depend upon it." What 
he wore for his work he had written in an earlier 
letter : 

"I eschewed shoes and socks, rather liking to be 
paddling about all day, when not going on shore or 
otherwise employed, which, of course, made up eight 

^^/y^ '•^^^ '^'^ ^^<;^»S^ /t^^ZU^ ^tt,JU<U*-*'^'<^ **'7t^ ec 


John Coleridge Patteson 183 

or ten hours of the thirteen hours of daylight. When 
I went ashore (which I did whenever the boat 
went), then I put on my shoes, and always swam in 
them, for the coral would cut my feet to pieces. 
Usual swimming and wading attire: flannel shirt, 
dark gray trousers, cap or straw hat, shoes, basket 
around my neck with fish-hooks, or perhaps an adz 
or two in my hand. I enjoyed the tropical climate 
very much — really warm always in the water or out 
of it. On the reefs, when I waded in shallow water, 
the heat of it was literally unpleasant, more than a 
tepid bath." 

But whatever the dress, the true heart beat be- 
neath, and the hearts of the Melanesians answered 
to it. 

The ten years of his bishopric were spent in cease- 
less work for the Melanesian islanders. The New 
Zealand climate was not good for his boys, many of 
them dying there, and after considering and reject- 
ing Curtis Island, near Australia, he removed his 
school to Norfolk Island. He hardly knew how the 
people on the islands would welcome him after their 
boys died in his school, but they understood and 
trusted him. When he went to Mota after one of 
the epidemics in the school, in which many boys had 
died, he wrote : 

"You should have been with me when, as I 
jumped on shore at Mota, I took Paraskloi's father 

184 Servants of the King 

by the hand. That dear lad I baptized as he lay in 
his shroud in the chapel, when the whole weight of 
the trial seemed, as it were, by a sudden revelation 
to manifest itself, and thoroughly overwhelmed and 
unnerved me. I got through the service with the 
tears streaming down my cheeks and my voice half 
choked. He was his father's pride, some seventeen 
years old. A girl ready chosen for his wife. 'It is 
all well. Bishop ; he died well. I knew j/ou did all 
you could ; it is all well' He trembled all over, and 
his face was wet with tears ; but he seemed strangely 
drawn to us, and if he survives this present epidemic 
his son's death may be to him the means in God's 
hands of an eternal life. Most touching, is it not, 
this entire confidence?" 

He loved them and they trusted him. It was this 
love that made him fearless when he landed on their 
islands, always watchful for treachery, but always 
bold and fearless, disarming hostility by his very con- 

Their savagery and uncleanness he strove against, 
but he saw the real worth and possibility of noble- 
ness in them. "The Melanesians," he said, "laugh 
as you may at it, are naturally gentlemanly and 
courteous and well-bred. I never saw a 'gent' in 
Melanesia, though not a few downright savages. 
I vastly prefer the savage." 

He learned their languages, so that he could 

John Coleridge Patteson 185 

speak to them more clearly and forcefully than they 
could speak to one another. He spoke a score of 
languages. He prepared grammars of twenty-five 
or more. And he gave himself utterly to those he 
had come to reach. He never returned to England, 
refusing invitations to do so, partly because he did 
not want to be lionized, partly because he was at 
home among his islanders and did not like the arti- 
ficial society of civilization. He had put in his life 
with the Melanesians, and he would not take it out. 

In 1868, after thirteen years' work, he ordained 
the first native clergyman, George Sarawia, who had 
been his pupil for nine years, and he could see 
throughout the islands some real evidences of 
changed lives, as well as of changed faith, as the re- 
sult of his frequent visits and of the work of the 
boys and girls whom he had trained and sent back 
to their own people. On the Island of Mota alone, 
on his last voyage, he baptized 289 persons. But 
he would not be overconfident. "I feel satisfied of 
their earnestness," he wrote, "and I think it looks 
like a stable, permanent work. Yet I need not tell 
you how my old text is ever in my mind, 'Thine 
heart shall fear, and be enlarged.' " 

The work was permanent, but his part in it was 
nearly done. In 1867 he began to be troubled over 
the trade in laborers. Ships began to go about 
the islands, carrying off men to work on the plan- 

1 86 Servants of the King 

tations on the Fiji Islands in Queensland. At first, 
and in the hands of honest sea-captains, the trade 
was legitimate. The laborers were honorably em- 
ployed. But soon it became a matter of kidnapping, 
and the "snatch-snatch" vessels, as the natives called 
them, almost depopulated some of the islands. And 
what was worse, other ships, for the sake of the tor- 
toise-shell traffic, would connive at the quarrels 
among different tribes and take part in their battles, 
so that they came to be called the "kill-kill" ships. 
Sometimes, to gain the confidence of the people be- 
fore some vicious treachery, they would represent 
themselves as having come from the Bishop. Pat- 
teson did all that he could to stop this wicked busi- 
ness, and realized that it was making great trouble 
for him. How could he hope to win these people to 
a Christian life when his own countrymen were mur- 
dering and kidnapping all around him and some- 
times implicating him in their crimes? 

At last the end came, as he feared. He was about 
among the islands and came to Nukapu, where, on 
September 20, 1871, he went ashore with two of the 
chiefs, who had formerly been very friendly to him. 
One of the ship's boats went in with him, and was 
floating about, with the native canoes around it, 
when suddenly, without warning, a man stood up 
in one of them and calling out, "Have you any like 
this ?" shot off one of the yard-long arrows, and his 

John Coleridge Patteson 187 

companions in the other two canoes began shooting 
as quickly as possible, calling out as they aimed: 
"This for New Zealand man ! This for Bauro man ! 
This for Mota man!" The boat was pulled back 
rapidly and was soon out of range, but not before 
three out of the four had been struck. The crew got 
back to the ship, but the Bishop did not appear on 
shore. After waiting, the men manned a boat and 
went in to look for him. As they drew near the 
shore two canoes put out toward them and one put 
the other adrift. In it they found the Bishop's body. 
He had been killed by a blow on the skull with a 
club. There were four other wounds, and on his 
breast was a branch of palm with five knots in the 
long leaves, indicating that he had been killed in 
revenge for five natives who had been stolen from 
Nukapu. A sweet, calm smile was on his face. The 
shepherd had laid down his life for his sheep. 

The next morning, St. Matthew's Day, they 
buried him in the waters of the Pacific, on which for 
sixteen years he had made his home. His death 
called attention to the atrocities of the labor trade, 
but they went on for years afterward. But Cole- 
ridge Patteson's life went on also. It is going on now 
in every land, calling men to be true and fearless as 
he was. And it will never die in the South Seas. 
Such lives never end. 



While vast continents are shrouded in darkness, and hun- 
dreds of millions suffer the horrors of heathenism or of Islam, 
the burden of proof lies upon you to show that the circum- 
stances in which God has placed you were meant by God to 
keep you out of the foreign mission field. 

— Ion Keith-Falconer 


JL^TJx. y^e^^-K^i^i^^Tx^v^ 



THERE died at the age of thirty-one in a little vil- 
lage In Arabia in 1887, the year after the Stu- 
dent Volunteer Movement for Foreign Missions be- 
gan its work among the colleges of the United States 
and Canada, a young Scotchman named Ion Keith- 
Falconer, whose life and death made a profound im- 
pression upon the students of that day. Perhaps 
that was due, in part, to his noble birth and ancestry. 
It seemed a wonderful thing for a son of an Earl, 
whose fathers had been among the great men of 
Scotland for eight hundred years, to go off and die 
just for love of men in a little Arabian village. But 
perhaps the students of his time were even more im- 
pressed at his going because he was such a great ath- 
lete, for he was the fastest bicycle rider in the world. 
Bicycles then were just coming in, and they were the 
high bicycles which boys of to-day know little about. 
Keith-Falconer was big and tall, six feet three inches 
when he was nineteen, and rode a very high wheel, 
so high that when, before one race, the step broke, 


192 Servants of the King 

he had to mount with a chair. And he had one mon- 
ster wheel seven feet high, which he called "The 
Leviathan," and on which he made a fearsome figure 
as he flew over the country roads. 

He began his bicycle riding as a boy at Harrow, 
one of the great English preparatory schools, as we 
should call them, and when he got to Cambridge he 
was a skilled rider. He went to Cambridge in 1874 
and began to win races at once. The next May he 
won for Cambridge the race against Oxford, on a 
fifty-mile course, and in 1876 he won the amateur 
championship four-mile race at Little Bridge, in 
what was the fastest time on record. In 1877 he 
was elected president of the London Bicycle Club, 
and that year he made new world's amateur records 
in the two-mile and ten-mile races with Oxford. In 
1878 he competed successfully in the two-mile race 
of the National Cyclists' Union for the title of short- 
distance champion, and the same year he beat John 
Keen, the world's professional champion, by five 
yards in a great five-mile race. He wrote an account 
of this race to his friend, Isaac Pitman, the inventor 
of shorthand, who had been urging him to give up 
smoking : 

"As for smoking, I think that the following will 
gratify you. Early in the year I consented to meet 
John Keen, the professional champion of the world. 

Ion Keith-Falconer 193 

in a five-mile race on our ground at Cambridge, on 
October 2^. But I forgot all about my engagement 
till I was accidentally reminded of it nine days be- 
fore it was to come off. 

"I immediately began to make my preparations 
and to train hard. The first thing to be done was 
to knock off smoking, which I did; next, to rise 
early in the morning and breathe the fresh air be- 
fore breakfast, which I did ; next, to go to bed not 
later than ten, which I did ; next, to eat wholesome 
food, and not too much meat or pastry, which I did ; 
and finally, to take plenty of gentle exercise in the 
open air, which I did. 

"What was the result? I met Keen on Wednes- 
day last, the 23d of October, and amid the most 
deafening applause, or rather yells of delight, this 
David slew the great Goliath ; to speak in plain lan- 
guage, I defeated Keen by about five yards. 

"The time was by far the fastest on record. 

Mins. Sees. 

The 1st mile was done in 2 59 

The 2d mile was done in 3 i 

The 3d mile was done in 3 7 

The 4th mile was done in 3 12 

The 5th mile was done in 2 52 2-5 

Total time 15 1 1 2-5 

194 Servants of the King 

"The last lap, that is, the last circuit, measuring 
440 yards, we did in 39 seconds ; that is more than 
1 1 yards per second. 

"The excitement was something indescribable. 
Such a neck-and-neck race was never heard of. The 
pace for the last mile was terrific, as the time shows, 
and when it was over I felt as fit and comfortable as 
ever I felt in my life. And even when the race was 
going on I thought actually that we were going 
slowly and that the time would be bad, and the rea- 
son was I was in such beautiful condition. I did not 
perspire or 'blow' from beginning to end. The peo- 
ple here are enchanted about it ; so that it is gratify- 
ing to me to think that, notwithstanding my other 
work and other business, I can yet beat, with posi- 
tive comfort and ease, the fastest rider in the world. 

'T am bound to say that smoking is bad — bad for 
the wind and general condition." 

The next year he beat John Keen again by three 
inches in a two-mile race, where he made a new rec- 
ord, and three days later he made a new world's 
record in a twenty-mile race. He was always in 
such good physical condition that he went into this 
race from a four days' hard examination, without 
any special preparation, and simply ran away from 
his leading competitor in the last lap. His last great 
race was for the amateur fifty-mile championship, 
which he won in 1882, in 2 hours 43 minutes and 

Ion Keith-Falconer 195 

58 3-5 seconds, seven minutes better than all pre- 
vious records. He was a long-distance rider, also, 
riding 150 miles in one day between dawn and dark 
— when this was a great feat — from Cambridge to 
Bournemouth to see his family. And, what was 
more notable, he was the first man to ride from 
Land's End to John O'Groat's, that is, from the 
southwestern corner of England to the northeastern 
corner of Scotland. And he did it in thirteen days. 
In his old school at Harrow they hung a big map 
on the wall, and followed his course by means of 
postals and telegrams which he sent, marking his 
victorious course with a little red flag. He was a 
clean, wholesome student, who loved sport for sport's 
sake, and who found in his great competitor, John 
Keen, the world's professional champion, a man 
after his own soul, who was above prizes, and who 
delighted, as Keith-Falconer did, in deeds of 
strength and endurance for their own sake. 
*- Many a man would be satisfied with being the best 
bicycle rider in the world. But Keith-Falconer was 
not. There were other things in life besides ath- 
letics. One of his other great interests was short- 
hand. He took it up while he was a schoolboy at 
Harrow, learning it quite unaided. He made con- 
stant use of it until the end of his life. For years 
he kept up a correspondence with Mr. Isaac Pitman, 
the inventor of phonography, and all the letters 

196 Servants of the King 

written to Mr, Pitman were in shorthand. Mr. 
Pitman testifies that Keith-Falconer "wrote it 
swiftly and accurately, and had a thorough knowl- 
edge of the minutest part of the system; and that 
not merely as a stenographer, but as a judge of 
its values as a part of a harmonious whole." He 
was the best bicycle rider in the world. He would 
become one of the best shorthand writers. And 
such an authority did he become that when he was 
twenty-eight years of age he wrote the article on 
"Shorthand" for the new edition of the Ency- 
clopadia Britannica. 

" But Keith-Falconer was not content with suprem- 
acy in athletics and shorthand. He would be also one 
of the best Arabic scholars in the world. He had al- 
ways been a good student, not of the cut-and-dried 
kind, studying hard only what was set before him, 
but choosing for himself and writing out the things 
that he believed to be permanently worth while. 
The special studies which he took up at Cambridge 
were theological and Biblical, and he soon got a 
solid mastery of Hebrew. When he was twenty he 
could write his letters in it readily, and he was 
able to bend the old language and its scanty vocabu- 
lary to the needs of every-day English thought. 
The oldest Greek translation of the Old Testament, 
the Septuagint, and Syriac he mastered also and 
was always looking for hard ppints. To a friend 

Ion Keith-Falconer 197 

he wrote, during these Cambridge days, "Send me 
some Septuagint nuts to crack if I can." From 
these things he went on to Arabic, going to Leipzig 
to pursue his studies. Coming back to London in 
188 1, he met General Gordon, and the two men took 
at once to each other and Gordon wrote to him the 
same month : 

"I only wish I could put you into something that 
would give you the work you need, namely, secular 
and religious work, running side by side. This is 
the proper work for man and I think you could 
find it. 

"Would you go to Stamboul as extra unpaid 
attache to Lord Dufferin? If so, why not try it, 
or else as private secretary to Petersburg? If you 
will not, then come to me in Syria to the Her- 

But God had an even greater thing for the Scotch- 
man, greater in God's eyes, and Keith-Falconer was 
seeking it. "Pray constantly for me," he wrote to 
a friend shortly after receiving General Gordon's 
letter, "especially that I may have my path in life 
more clearly marked out for me, or (which is per- 
haps a better request) that I may be led along the 
path intended for me." 

So he worked on his Arabic, and became in that, 
as in all things that he gave himself to, a leader 
and authority. In reviewing a book of Keith-Fal- 

198 Servants of the King 

coner's, one of the foremost Oriental scholars, Pro- 
fessor Noldeke, wrote : "We will look forward with 
hope to meet the young Orientalist, who has so early 
stepped forward as a master." He was then twenty- 
nine, and the next year was elected Lord Almoner's 
Professor of Arabic at Cambridge University, to 
succeed Professor Robertson Smith. Surely he 
could now be content! 

" But from his earliest childhood deeper purposes 
had stirred Keith-Falconer's heart. He had been 
born a Christian. He had an innate truthfulness, 
and from his first years was unvaryingly thoughtful 
of others. If anything was to be shared among the 
brothers and sisters, he was sure to say, "Give it to 
others first. I will wait." He was full of his own 
resources, generous and sincere, with the most ear- 
nest and simple Christian faith. When he was seven 
he had his own clear opinions about things, and went 
about among the cottagers on his father's place ex- 
plaining and reading the Bible to them. The tutor 
who came to guide his work when he was nine 
wrote : 

" "During the many walks and rambles that we had 
together he would often say to me, 'I wish you would 
talk to me,' which I knew meant to say, Will you 
speak to me of the Savior and of the incidents in the 
life of the Lord Jesus? , . . He was a thoroughly 
conscientious and noble-hearted boy." 

Ion Keith- Falconer 199 

When he went to Harrow, at the age of thirteen, 
he was the same sort of boy. The master, in whose 
home he resided, wrote of him : 
t. "His boyish Hfe was noticeable from the first for 
marked individuality and determination, ... It 
was refreshing to meet with one who was by no 
means disposed to swim necessarily with the stream, 
and who, though in no wise self-engrossed or un- 
sociable, would not flinch for a moment from saying 
or doing what he believed to be right, at the risk of 
incurring unpopularity or being charged with eccen- 
tricity. He was one of those boys, not too common, 
who are not afraid to have the courage of their opin- 
ions. Always high-principled and religious, he never 
disguised his views. I remember how, when almost 
head of my house, he displayed conspicuously on 
the wall of his room a printed roll of texts from the 
Bible — an open avowal of his belief, which was far 
less common and more noticeable at the time I speak 
of than it would be now. Not that he was anything 
of a prig or a Pharisee; far from it. He was an 
earnest, simple-hearted, devout, Christian boy." 

He thought things out for himself and took his 
own line. He stopped, accordingly, whatever prac- 
tises he thought were not the highest or such as 
could not be shared with Christ, and for Christ he 
wanted to work and did work. ' He stood against all 
dishonesty and for all cheery, brotherly helpfulness. 

200 Servants of the King 

He lived nine years at Cambridge with one old land- 
lady, who declared that during all those years "his 
sole aim seemed to be to benefit all needing help, 
friends or strangers." He worked for his fellow 
students in his straightforward, manly way to win 
them to Christ, and he took the deepest interest in 
work for the laboring men in Barnwell, a suburb of 
Cambridge, full of squalor and vice, and then in a 
unique mission in London at Mile End. In both 
cases buildings were provided largely through his 
energy and zeal. He fought drunkenness and vice 
with the same joy and success with which he did 
other things, and he laid hold of men who were 
down with a brotherliness which encouraged them 
to believe in the reality of the help of Christ. When 
he was gone, a poor painter whom he had got out 
of prison wrote : 

"He told me if, by reason of the frailty which is 
in man by his evil heart of unbelief, I should fall into 
sin, 'Remember sinking Peter' ; that One who raised 
him to the surface of the water can give me strength 
to get up again." 

What more could Keith-Falconer wish for, then .? 
He knew the gladness of unselfishness, and surely 
could not do more than go forward in the career of 
usefulness and influence which seemed to lie before 
him. He had married, in 1884, the daughter of 
Mr. R. C. L. Bevan, a London banker. He had 

f PffilJP' 'i.l«.4..>!v«S*-! 




Ion Keith-Falconer 201 

made his home in Cambridge, where he had a posi- 
tion as lecturer before his appointment as professor. 
He had money and friends. Was all this not enough? 
No, it was not enough. There was something yet 
more for him to do. The gifts God had given him 
he had given him not for selfish enjoyment or for 
partial use, but in order that they might be used to 
the full. He had never been the sort of boy or man 
simply to follow in the beaten track. He was ready 
for the big and courageous thing. What was the 
biggest and most Christian thing he could do? His 
knowledge of Arabic, his fearless zeal, his tact and 
judgment, his resources of many kinds, including 
the money which enabled him to support the mission 
himself, marked him as the man for a mission which 
many felt should be undertaken to the Mohamme- 
dans of southern Arabia. The evangelization of the 
Mohammedans is the hardest task on earth. That 
was the kind of task Keith-Falconer wanted. He 
did not believe that an independent mission was the 
best, so he arranged to have his mission connected 
with the Free Church of Scotland. That the work 
might be thoroughly effective he studied medicine, 
so as to be able to help the doctor who was to be a 
part of the mission. To plan most wisely, he went 
out in 1885 on a visit to investigate the field for him- 
self, and the next year returned with his wife to 
settle and begin the work. 

202 Servants of the King 

He at once won the respect and friendship of those 
about him, threw himself with all his characteristic 
energy into the problem of the mission, set to work 
learning some more languages and reading books by 
the dozens between times, came down with fever, 
but wrote, "Read Bonar's Life of Judson, and you 
will see that our trials are naught," and then, after 
repeated attacks of fever, was attacked in May by 
a sickness from which he did not rise up. "How I 
wish," he said, "that each attack of fever had 
brought me nearer to Christ — nearer, nearer, 
nearer." He had his wish, and in the morning of 
May 10, 1887, he "passed over," as Bunyan says of 
"Valiant-for-Truth," and all the trumpets sounded 
for him on the other side. 

Some people get enjoyment from nothing but nice 
and orderly comfort. They do not care for rough- 
ing it, either physically or otherwise. Keith-Fal- 
coner liked the good rough work of life. The hard- 
ship of the mission — and it was probably from the 
effects of living in a poor house that he died — was 
nothing to him. He took it all, without thinking 
about it, as a matter of course. Young men and 
women shrink from the missionary work because of 
its trials or its uncertainties. These things were as 
trivial to him as they are to the soldier. His mind 
was ever upon the thing to be done, not upon any 
personal hardships of his own. 

Ion Keith-Falconer 203 

And he did not hesitate to appeal to others to ask 
themselves if they did not have the same duty which 
he acknowledged for himself toward the great world. 
This was the way he closed his last address to large 
gatherings in Edinburgh and Glasgow on the eve of 
his going forth : 

"In conclusion, I wish to make an appeal. There 
must be some who will read these words, or who, 
having the cause of Chri'st at heart, have ample in- 
dependent means and are not fettered by genuine 
home ties. Perhaps you are content with giving an- 
nual subscriptions and occasional donations and 
taking a weekly class? Why not give yourselves, 
money, time and all, to the foreign field? Our own 
country is bad enough, but comparatively many 
must, and do, remain to work at home, while very 
few are in a position to go abroad. Yet how vast 
is the foreign mission field ! 'The field is the world.' 
Ought you not to consider seriously what your 
duty is? The heathen are in darkness and we are 
asleep. Perhaps you try to think that you are meant 
to remain at home and induce others to go. By sub- 
scribing money, sitting on committees, speaking at 
meetings and praying for missions you will be doing 
the most you can to spread the gospel abroad. Not 
so. By going yourself you will produce a tenfold 
more powerful effect. You can give and pray for 
missions wherever you are ; you can send descriptive 

204 Servants of the King 

letters to the missionary meetings, which will be 
more effective than second-hand anecdotes gathered 
by you from others, and you will help the committees 
finely by sending them the results of your experi- 
ence. Then, in addition, you will have added your 
own personal example and taken your share of the 
real work. We have a great and imposing war 
office, but a very small army. You have wealth 
snugly vested in the funds; you are strong and 
healthy; you are at liberty to live where you like 
and occupy yourself as you like. While vast conti- 
nents are shrouded in almost utter darkness, and 
hundreds of millions suffer the horrors of heathen- 
ism or of Islam, the burden of proof lies upon you 
to show that the circumstances in which God has 
placed you were meant by him to keep you out of 
the foreign mission field." 

Of those who read these words, are there none 
who would like to follow in the train of the athlete 
and scholar whose body lies in the lonely grave by 
the Gulf of Aden, even as he followed in the train 
of the Son of God, going forth to war? 




Adams, Jefferson County, 

New York, 23 
Afghan Moslem soldiers, 48 
Africa, 6-16, 44-46, Si-54 
Alfington, England, 179 
Ambassador for Christ, 135 
"Americanized Dutchman," 


Angola, 52 

Arabia, igi, 201, 202 

Arabic language, 179, 196-198, 

Archbishop of Canterbury, 32 
Audubon, school of Miss, 64 
Austerity unadvisable, 134 

Barbados, West Indies, 47 
Bareilly, India, 142 
Barnwell, England, 200 
Barroom preaching, 161, 162 
Beard, Bishop Taylor's, 42 
Bicycle riding, 191-195 
Bombay, 48, 142 
Bonar's Life of Judson, 202 
Boone, Bishop, 123 
Bournemouth, England, 195 
Bowman, Bishop, 52 
Boxers, 105, 106, 107; 
massacre, 108, 109 

Boys' boarding-school atLien- 

chou, 106 
Brazil, 6, 50 
British Guiana, 47 

California, 40, 41 
Cambridge, 200, 201 ; 
university, ii, 31, 192, 195- 
Canada, 41, 42; 

Alberta incident, 167 
Canadian Pacific Railway, 169 
Canton, China, 97, 100, 105, 

Cape Horn, 41 
Cape of Good Hope, 6, 7 
Capetown, 9 
Carey referred to, 31 
Chesnut, Eleanor, 89-113; 
birth and early years, 91, 

educational and medical 

courses, 93-95; 
first medical service at 

South Framingham, 95 ; 
further training, 95, 96; 
missionary appointment and 
journey to China, 96, 97; 




opening hospital experi- 
ences, 97-105 ; 
return home on furlough, 

service again in Lien-chou 
and martyrdom, 91, 106- 
unselfish and perfected 

character, 109-112; 
vivid pictures in letters, 95- 
103, 112, 113 
Chicago, 24 
Chile, 50 
China, 5, 64, 91, 96-112, 118, 

Chinese, All Souls' Day, 107; 
curiosity, 128; 
hospital for women, 98; 
men showing ability, 102; 
prescription, 103 ; 
women's sad lives, 99, 100 
Chippewa Indians, 24 
Chitambo's village, 15 
Chonuane, Africa, 8 
Christmas in Africa, Living- 
stone's, 13 
Christodora House, New 

York City, 64, 65 
Church and Manse Building 

Fund, 163 
Church Missionary Society, 32 
Cmcinnati Academy of De- 
sign, 142 
Civil War, 13, 29; 
effect on missionary work, 

Clinton, New York, 23 

Confucius. 127 

Congo, Free State, 52 ; 

River, 10 
Cooke, school of Miss, 70 
Costa Rica, 50 
Crabbottom, Virginia, 37 
Criticism disarmed, 130 
Curtis Island, 183 

Damien, Father, 31 

Desecration of mission prop- 
erty, 107 

Details of school work in In- 
dia, 148, 150 

Devault, Mr., 135 

Dwight School, Englewood, 

Ecuador, 50 

Edinburgh, 11 

Egypt, 31 

Encyclopccdia Britannica, 196 

Englewood, New Jersey, 57 

Eton boys, 175 

Europe, 31, 131, 170 

Faribault, Minnesota, 24, 25 

Fenian raid, 158 

Fiji Islands, 186 

Finney, C. G., 23 

Fire-water, 27, 28 

Foreign Mission Board, Rich- 
mond, Virginia, 122 

Foreign missions and mission 
workers, 1-17, 44-54, 73- 
152, 173-204 




Fort McLcod stage-driver, 

Fort Ripley, 29 
Foster, Bishop, 52 
Free Church of Scotland, 201 

Gallen, Father, 67 
Garibaldi, 45 

Georgetown, Demarara, 47 
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, 13 
Girls' schools at Cawnpur and 

Lucknow, 143 
Glasgow University, 11 
God, consecration to, 38 
Gordon, General, 197 
Grand Canal. China, 132, 133 
Green Bay, Wisconsin, 76 
Greenfield, Massachusetts, 64 
Griffis, Dr., 82 
Gulf nf Aden, 204 
Gutzlaff, influence of appeal 

on Livingstone, 5 

Ham-kuang, China, 106 
Harrison, ex-President, 151 
Harrow school, England, 192, 

Ilartzell, Bishop J. C, 53 
Hawaiian Islands, 32 
Hindus, reached by William 

Taylor, 48 
Hints to candidates, 134 
Hizen, Baron, 79 
Hogg, David, advice of, 5 
Holiness, Bishop Taylor's 

book on, 43 

Holmes, Dr. Oliver Wendell, 

Home missions and mission 

workers, 19-42, 55-71, 147, 

Hongkong, China, 96 
Hudson Bay Company, 160 
Humboldt, Manitoba, 164 
Hu-nan, China, 97; 
conditions in, 99, 105 

India, 48, 49, 139-151 
Indians, American, 21-28; 

championed by Bishop 
Whipple, 2"] ; 

councils and treaties with, 

fire-water, 27, 28 ; 

need of a friend, 22; 

outbreaks among, 26 ; 

Red Cloud's toast, 22; 

wrongs inflicted on, 27 
Indian Peace Commission, 2"] 
Inhambane, Africa, 54 
Iwakura, embassy, 83 ; 

Prince, 81 

Jackson, Alice, 55-71 ; 
Christian experience, 62; 
concentration, 59 ; 
death, 70; 
influence over others, 60, 

67-70 ; 
missionary longings, 63 ; 
prayer or song for children, 



school work, 64; 

settlement work, 65, 66 ; 

Y. W. C. A. work in New 
York, 69 
Jamaica, 47 
Japanese, embassy, 81, 83, 84; 

students for America, 81 
Judson, memoirs of Mrs., 122 

Kaffir work, Taylor's, 44, 54 
Kang-hau, China, 106 
Keen, John, 192, 194, 195 
Keith- Falconer, Ion, 189-204; 

athlete and scholar, 191, 
196, 204; 

bicycle record, 191-195; 

high social station, 191 ; 

immense application in 
studies, 195-197; 

marriage, 200; 

Mohammedan mission and 
death, 201, 202; 

plea for missionary conse- 
cration, 203, 204 
Kildonan, Manitoba, 160 
King, of Belgium, 52; 

of Portugal, 52 
Klondike, 169 

Knox Church, Winnipeg, 159 
Kolobeng, Africa, 8, 9 
Kuang-tung, China, 97 
Kuruman, Africa, 7, 8 

Lake 'Ngami, 8 
Lambeth Conference, 31 
Lam-mo, China, 97 

Land's End to John o' Groat's, 

Letter of Chinese students, 

Liberia, 52 
Lien-chou, China, 97, 100; 

martyrs at, 91, 108- no; 

men's hospital at, 105, 107 ; 

official in, 102 ; 

women's hospital, 98 
Lien-shan official, 102 
Life of Robert and Mary 

Moffat, 146 
Lilavati Singh, 150, 151, 152 
Lingle, Mr., 103 
Linyanti, Africa, 9, 10 
Lions, adventures with, 7, 8 
Little Bridge race, 192 
Liverpool, 42 
Livingstone, David, 1-17, 31 ; 

birth, 3 ; 

boyhood, 4; 

early studies, 4-6; 

interest in China and Af- 
rica, 5; 

main African journeys, 6- 

return trips to and honors 

in Great Britain, 11-13; 
Stanley's relief and tribute, 

unparalleled service, death, 

and burial in Westminster 

Abbey, 3, 13-17 
Livingstone, Mrs., 8, 12, 146; 
Robert, 13 

Loanda, see St. Paul de Lo- 

"Locomotive habit," 41 

Log-rolling, 38 

London, 11 

London Bicycle Club, 192 

London Missionary Society, 7 

Lucknow, 48, 141, 143 

Ltidlow, Massachusetts, fac- 
tory conditions, 68 

Mabotsa, Africa, 8 

McAfee, Dr., 93 

Machle, Amy, 108; 
Dr., Id, 107, 108; 
Mrs., 108 

Manitoba, 169 

Melanesians, 181-187 

Melbourne, Australia, 43 

Memorial tablet in New York 
Presbyterian Building, 91 

Methodist Episcopal Church 
and William Taylor's 
father, 37 

Mikado, the, 81 

Mile End, London, 200 

Mission schooner, 181 

Moffat, Robert and Mary, 6, 
8, 146, 147 

Moffitt, Dr., 44 

Mohammedans, mission ef- 
forts for, 48, 201, 204 

Moravian Institute, 76 

Moravians, 31 

Morrison, Robert, 31 

Mota, Island of, 183, 185 

Index 211 

Mount Pisgah Church camp- 
meeting, 119 

Murata, Japanese official, 79; 
much impressed by Chris- 
tian book found, 80 

Nagasaki, 78-81 
National Cyclists' Union, 192 
Neesima, Joseph Hardy, 83 
Neil, the Rev. John, quoted, 

New Hebrides Islands, 181 
New York Herald, 14 
New York School of Peda- 
gogy, 64 
New Zealand, 176-178, 180, 

Nicaragua. 50 
Noldeke, Professor, 198 
Norfolk Island, 183 
North Carolina's first foreign 

missionary, 122 
Northwest, home mission 

work for the, 161 
Norwich, Ontario, 158 
Notice-boards in Japan, 79, 

Nukapu, Patteson's death at, 


Oberlin College, 23 
Oceanic, the, 96, 97 
Opossum story, 47 
Optimism, Bishop Whipple's, 

Order of the Rising Sun, 84 



Ottery St. Mary school, Eng- 
land, 177, 179 

Ox-back and ox-wagon travel, 

Oxford University, 11, 179, 

Palo Alto, California, 54 
Panama, 50 

Park College, Parkville, Mis- 
souri, 93, 94 
Parsees, 48 
Paton, John G., 181 
Patterson, Miss, 108 
Pstteson, John Coleridge, 
birth and family ties, 176; 
boyhood experiences, 175- 

education in Germany and 

at Oxford, 179; 
entrance on parish and mis- 
sion work, 179-181 ; 
Episcopal dress and duties, 

languages acquired, 179, 

181, 185; 
life in the South Pacific, 

school epidemic, 183, 184 ; 
service to the Melanesians 
and death, 184-187 
Patteson, Sir John, and Lady, 

175-177, 180 
Paul's good fight, 21 

Pcabody, Kansas, Presbyte- 
rian Church, 143, 144 

Peale, Mr. and Mrs., 91, 107, 

Perry, Commodore, ^^ 

Peru, 50 

Peterboro, Canada, 42 

Pitman, Isaac, 192, 195 

Prayer-meeting by boys, 129 

Prayer or song for little 
children, 66 

Preaching, tact and skill in, 
two kinds of, 26; 
William Taylor's, 45 

Presidents known by Bishop 
Whipple, 32 

Princeton Theological Semi- 
nary, 158 

Protestant Episcopal General 
Convention, 25 

Punch, London, quoted, 16, 17 

Purefoy, Father, 118 

Queen Victoria, 11, 31, 177 
Queensland, 186 
Quilimane, Africa, 1 1 

P.ailroad to Winnipeg, 163 
Red Holes, log-rolling at, 38 
Reed, Brother, helps missions, 

Regina student, a, 165 
Richards, E. H., referred to, 

Ridpath, quoted, 41, 42 



Kiel's rebellion, 159 
Pobertson, James, 153-171 ; 
birthplace, 155; 
characteristics, 155, 157; 
emigration of family to On- 
tario, 156; 
experiences as a teacher and 

in college, 157, 158; 
further studies in Prince- 
ton and New York, 158; 
Manitoba and the North- 
west, 161 ; 
marriage and pastorates, 

superintendent of home 
missions in the North- 
west, 161-170; 
visits to Scotland and death, 
Rohilkhand, India, 139, 142 
Rome, New York, 24 
Rossland, British Columbia, 

Royal Geographical Society, 

St. Paul de Loanda, 10, 52 
Sam-kong, China mission sta- 
tion, 97, 98; 

daily life in, 97; 

difficulties, 98, 99 
San Francisco, 41, 47, 96 
Seaver, Brother, describes 

William Taylor, 37 
Selwyn, Bishop, 177, 180; 

his successor, 182 

Senate, Japan's, 84 
"Septuagint nuts to crack," 

Shanghai, China, 1 18, 126, 

missionary conference in, 


Shattuck School, Faribault, 
Minnesota, 24 

Shire River, 12 

Shorthand, 195 

Shupanga, Africa, Mrs. Liv- 
ingstone's death at, 12 

Siam, 95 

Sioux Indians, 22, 24; 
treaties with, 22 

Slave-trade, 9, 14 

Smallpox patient, Miss Tho- 
burn's, 141 

Smith College, Northamp- 
ton, Massachusetts, 57, 67 

Smith, Robertson, 198 

Smoking, 193 

Snakes, lesson from the, 119 

South Africa, 6, 8, 44-46, 54 

South America, 50 

South China, 96 

South Zambezi Mission, 54 

Southern Baptist Convention, 

Stanley, Henry M., 14 

Stony Mountain blizzard, 60 

"Stopping - places," discom- 
forts of, 163, 166 

Story of My Life, William 
Taylor's, 46 



Student Volunteer Movement 
for Foreign Missions, 191 
Styal, Cheshire, England, 57 
Susi, Livingstone's attendant, 

Swain. Miss Clara A., 142 
Swearing stage-drivers, 29, 

Sydney, Australia, 43 
Syriac language, 179, 196 

T'ai-p'ing rebellion, 129 

Tasmania, 48 

Taylor, William, 35-54, 143; 

ancestry and birth, zi ', 

consecration and zeal in 
reaching men, 38; 

downs a playful class- 
leader, 39, 40; 

experiences as a missionary 
in California, 40, 41 ; 

finds open doors in Canada 
and Great Britain, 42; 

first and second tours in 
Australia and South Af- 
rica, 42-48, 53, 54; 

Holy Land visited, 42; 

India campaign, 48-50; 

"locomotive habit," 41 ; 

Missionary Bishop of Af- 
rica, 51-53; 

South American work, 50; 

West Indies, 47; 

work completed and coro- 
nation, 54 
Thoburn, Isabella, 139-152; 

ancestry and early life, 140, 


education, 141, 142; 

immediate response to mis- 
sionary call, 139, 142; 

Lucknow and Cawnpur 
schools for girls founded, 
142, 143; 

Presbyterian church and 
other addresses, 144-147; 

promotion of deaconess 
work in home field, 147, 

school at Lucknow devel- 
oped into woman's col- 
lege, 145, 148-150; 

wonderful executive power 
and influence, 148-152; 

work suddenly finished, 151 
Thoburn, Bishop, quoted, 144, 

Thwing, Mr. and Mrs., 98 
Tokyo, Japan, 75, 81, 84-86 
Trade in laborers in Mela- 
nesia, 186; 
a result, 187 
Training School for Nurses, 

Chicago, 95 
Travel in Africa, 7-10; 

in Canada in 1873, 159 
Trinidad, 47 
Tunbridge Wells, England. 

incident, 46 
Tung-chou, China, 135 

Ujiji, Africa, 14 



Union Theological Seminary, 

United States and United 

States government, 22, 

76, -7T, 8s, 130, 133. 13s 
University of Manitoba, 169 
Utrecht Polytechnic Institute, 


Verbeck, Guido Fridolin, 73- 

birth and happy childhood, 

75, 1^\ 

confirmed and trained in 

languages and trade, 76; 

emigration to United States, 

76, n\ 

gives himself to missionary 
service, T] ; 

goes to Japan, 78; 

has remarkable success in 
training national leaders 
and translating books, 

79-84 ; 

later preaching and teach- 
ing work, 84, 85 ; 

made a citizen of Japan 
and highly honored at 
his death, 85-87 
Victoria Falls, Africa, 11 

Wake Forest, North Carolina, 

120, 122 
Waterloo, Iowa, 91, 92 
Waugh, Bishop, 40 
Weed, Thurlow, 23 

Welfare Work, 68 
Wellesley, Massachusetts, 70 
Wellington, Duke of, at Eton, 

West Indies, 47 
Westminster Abbey, 3, 16, 31 
Wheeling Female Seminary, 

West Virginia, 141, 142 
V-'hipple, Henry Benjamin, 

19-33 ; 

a good fighter for the right, 

21-23 ; 
birth and education, 23; 
early ministerial work, 23, 

enters upon duties as 
Bishop of Minnesota, 24; 
immediate and heroic devo- 
tion to the Indians, 24-28, 
31, 32; 
love for him of the Fari- 
bault community, 24, 25 ; 
methods of helping and 

winning men, 25-31 ; 
new idea converts a stage- 
driver, 28-30; 
optimistic spirit, 32; 
receives many honors in 

England, 31, 32; 
reminiscences published and 
close of life, 28, 32, 2>2) 
Wife, a missionary's, 123 
Wilkins, Captain, on Bishop 

Whipple, 27 
Windsor Castle, 31 
Winnebago Indians, 24 



Winnipeg journeys, 159 
Woman's Foreign Missionary 
Society's first missiona- 
ries, 142 
Woman's Medical College, 

Chicago, 95 
Woman's Reformatory, South 
Framingham, Massachu- 
setts, 95 
V\''oodstock, Ontario, 156 
Work of a bishop, 25, 26 

Yang-tzu, River, 132, 133 ; 

Valley, 99 
Yates, Matthew Tyson, 115- 

a providential call to serv- 
ice, 117, 118; 

birth and early prayer life, 

efforts for an education, 
120, 121 ; 

foreign missionary decision, 

marriage and voyage to 
Shanghai, 122, 123 ; 

mastery of the conditions 
and the language, 123- 

meeting interruptions skil- 
fully, 127, 128 ; 

pressing out into the coun- 
try, 128, 129; 

return home on furlough, 
and later visit to Europe, 
129- 13 1 ; 

rules for an aggressive na- 
tive Church, 131, 132; 

survey of a line of mission- 
ary attack, 132, 133; 

vice-consul-general, closing 
labors, and death, 133- 
Yukon River, 169 

Zambezi River, 8, 12 
Zanzibar, 16 
Zeist, Holland, 75 

Princeton Theological Seminary Libraries 

1 1012 01206 9052 

Date Due 

. > J ^4( 

D 19 '41 




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